CMBlack: Eyes of an Owl
by Vindicated Soldiers
Summary: Cassy Black had low hopes for her fifth-year following Voldemort's revival. The Order wanted her to know little and the new Defense teacher was to teach them nothing at all. With Harry leading a secret army and Cassy fighting to support her beliefs, she did not have time for her infuriating cousins, or for petty rivalries. Yet, somehow emotions still run high in love and hate.
1. The house where she grew up

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter I: The house where she grew up**

Five days after the end of term, Alphard was cremated. His body was on show for what seemed like forever; his hands clasping one another across his chest, his eyes peacefully closed. July 3rd was a day that Cassy would forever mark on her calendar and one that would never need to be; she would always remember the date. In fifty-years, when her mind may have slowed and her wit was blunter, she would know the day each and every year following.

The only flower to be placed on the coffin was hers. No one else even attempted to invade the space. It was not white for Alphard had always found the colour bland, but instead a deep purple. It had been his favourite and the colour of his tie that she had chosen for him to remain in, his last outfit that she had spent time choosing, hours of her day staring and never touching. It seemed wrong to rummage through his belongings, because they were still his, but in the end, she folded up a grey suit with his purple tie and cuff links and handed them to the funeral director without another word.

The varnished wood of the casket vanished behind the curtain. The unwelcome reflection of the gleaming sun had disappeared and suddenly it was as if there was no light at all. The curtain was thick and solid, taking Alphard from them definitely, completely, unable to return at last. As the first sounds of the piano rang through the hall, any hopes of Alphard suddenly waking, no matter how small and ridiculous, vanished.

Cassy had sat at the front, as near to the coffin as anyone was willing to let her. Beside her was Tonks. Her hair had not changed in colour, frozen oddly at mousy brown for all the days that had passed. It was longer though, tied up in a neat knot that looked starkly contrasting to her usual spikes. Her dress was dark and long, much like Cassy's own. On her other side had stood her parents and Cassy had never quite fathomed that day why they had made an appearance. Edward, Tonks' father who was more affectionately referred to as Ted, had never met Alphard since his wedding to Andromeda. His brown eyes stared sadly at the coffin, contorting the wrinkles he had gained from many eager smiles that lined his eyes. His wife, looking every bit the woman Cassy had thought she would be with her dark hair and eyes, far taller than her daughter and a thin frame that all the Black women seemed to inherit. She had not seen Alphard for years either and Alphard had never expressed much fondness for her beyond the default kind, the type one would always have for family that was somewhat estranged.

Beside Cassy, his hand wrapped tightly around her own by his own accord, was Neville. He and his Grandmother had spent many hours arranging the funeral with Cassy and Tonks. It was she who spoke to the companies and arranged the service and it was Neville who had sat with Cassy for hours in utter silence, yet never leaving her side in case she should want for something. Mrs Longbottom was grieving silently throughout. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she did not whimper or shake. She was too well versed in it, having grieved for years over the loss of her son and his young wife without ever having physically lost them. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her where she stood beside her grandson.

Cassy wept. She had been silent, with tears that streaked down her pale cheeks and onto the dry grass below. She had been surprised she could even muster them any more for she had not cried at all since the night he had died. No tears would surface, even as her eyes had burnt dully every moment of every day since. Behind her, people were much less composed. The shire amount of people who had attended had been astounding. His old friends, his new friends, his work colleagues and their neighbours had all come out despite the lack of personal invitation. Cassy had been very selective who she actually asked to attend and beyond that a notice was placed in the Daily Prophet noting the time and place. It seemed it had not gone unnoticed.

Hands were shaken all day. Person after person approached Cassy to offer their own consoling words, words that simply repeated the last person, wishing her well and expressing how they had all lost a great man. Cassy had not even known who half of the people were. Amongst the well-wishers had been a select few who had given her cards with their names on, stating that if she ever needed anything when she grew to let them know. Stories of how they owed him a lot and how it was the least they could do for him; Cassy wanted to demand to know where they had been when he was alive and where they had been when he was dying. She held her tongue. The cards had been crumpled during the reception as she minced them between her fingers under the table in an overwhelming desire to escape. They had been stuffed in the compartment beneath her jewellery box that night though.

The cremation had been beautiful. Cassy had made a speech and she had hated every minute of it. She said things she had never even told Alphard himself and it seemed so wrong to be telling them to other people, people who meant nothing at all to her. She was the final one to speak. Alphard's oldest friend, his best, he might have said, who had been with him since he was eleven years old went first. His colleague who he had run the company closely with for many years had been next. Neither had produced quite as many tears as Cassy had. It seemed there was something about a child making a speech of a dead loved one that produced many ugly sobs around the room. She could not meet anyone's eye. She stared at the back of the hall the entire time.

There was one place in the room that she dreaded to see more than the eyes of anyone present, because looking at that spot meant acknowledging who was not. Three empty seats sat on the other side of the aisle to her chair. She and Alphard had always had a little family in the past few years. His cousins had passed quickly and suddenly and all at once, leaving only him and Ignatius alive. He sat beside the empty seats and said nothing of them. He too knew who should have been there. Even as the hall had filled to its maximum capacity, Cassy had refused to let anyone take them. It was only when the service started did she let the anxiety that had been boiling beneath the surface all week finally bubble into rage.

The Malfoy family had never shown.

Cassy refused to cry for them. In her mind, it was as though they did not even exist on that day. Her anger soon stopped her tears. Alphard had been family, close family to them, he had taken care of Draco as Narcissa had for her. Even if Narcissa and Alphard had had their differences in the past year, he would still have wanted her there and if not for him then Narcissa should have made an effort to appear for her, at least. They were supposed to be family. They were supposed to be the family that did not care for her blood or her House placement, the second unconditional love she had besides Alphard; they had not even sent her a letter.

It was indisputable in her mind from then on that the Malfoy family had chosen Voldemort. While stubbornness was in their blood, an undeniably strong trait of the family, Cassy refused to believe that Narcissa could be so stubborn that she would ignore such an event for a petty reason. Once since his death she had contacted Cassy. It was to ask her to live with them and while Cassy had reluctantly explained she could not, the choices had been made and the arrangements finalised, she never received a letter back. The time and energy she had poured into it was wasted. There was not a single sound back from them and so Cassy could not understand why she had dared to hope they might still show to the funeral. That was being hopeful beyond reason. She may as well have been waiting for a miracle and Cassy did not believe in those.

The anger she carried with her was constant and deep burning. It failed to leave her in the days that followed and served only as a reminder of what transpired. Relentlessly, it crept up on her through her days, churning her stomach and making the food turn uncomfortably, or to force her to grip what she was holding so tightly it was ruined, parchment crumpled needlessly, raw lines from the metal cutlery etched into her hands before she abandoned efforts to eat all together. It was on those days that Tonks would stay up late with her and microwave strange pots of food for the pair of them to eat. They had a distinct flavour that Tonks insisted was on all microwaved foods, although she could not tell her why.

It was a week later that Cassy began a mass clean up of her old home. It had been left to her in the will, everything had, bar a substantial sum of money for Tonks to care for Cassy's upkeep in the following years, which she had tried to give back, and some money and items for Alphard's close friends. The house, everything remaining in it, and the rest of his wealth was hers. It was odd, thought Cassy, because right then, as she sifted through stacks of paper, she would rather have been as poor as the Weasleys if it meant having him standing beside her, telling her to stop complaining.

Her eyes were dry. They had remained so and ached and throbbed each and every time she blinked, but she hardly noticed it any more. The new irritant that stung them she blamed on the dust. It had been many months since she had entered her bedroom. Her portraits and pictures were thick with dust. Plum and Kitsy had been no where to be seen for a long while, not until she finally dared calling them one night long after Tonks had gone to bed. She did not want them to touch anything. Cassy wanted to collect what she could, salvage and put into storage what remained, and throw out very little. She did not want anything of value, sentiment or otherwise, passing her by.

The photographs of her friends she had tacked on the wall over the years had all come down. They were slotted into a box along with her ornaments and a sample of her favourite books. The portraits of animals and scenery still hung. She had no need for them and no room. They covered nearly all the room of the wall her bed rested on. Then again, her new room at Tonks' flat was blank, but Cassy was not sure she wanted to remove too much from her childhood home. She could not bare the thought of it empty.

The plants that littered her desk and windowsill had wilted and yellowed from neglect, although Cassy had little desire to revive them. She had all ready collected a tiny purple plant from the living room that had sat in the window for as long as she could remember; it had always flowered through November. She was only to take was she needed. The rest would be cared for by her house-elves and while she knew that, it was difficult to leave anything behind. The more she sifted through the more she had packed, things she had not touched in many years had become genuinely difficult to discard. Cassy was not someone of great sentiment, tradition she would admit to, but sentiment was something she had never valued highly. Yet suddenly everything meant something to her.

Downstairs had been left to Tonks' discretion. With instructions to pack anything that was not food into boxes for relocation, Cassy had left it to her. Not long after they had began, the doorbell rang, startling Cassy and making Tonks jump if the broken plate was anything to go by. She had listened carefully to the voices that rang through the silent halls. Andromeda and Edward had arrived to lend a hand at Tonks' request. Cassy did not really want them touching her uncle's belongings, but she did not stop them. They were both perfectly pleasant people. Andromeda was warm to her family and Edward was always smiling. He was a lot like Tonks, cheerful although somewhat air-headed. Andromeda was smart and calculating, but distant to Cassy. Cassy could not muster the energy to care though. Andromeda made it inadvertently clear she was only there for Tonks and Cassy was fine with that. She could resent Cassy for invading her neat little family, or for burdening Tonks with the responsibility of care of another at such a young age; Cassy did not care what it was. Whatever made her incapable of saying more than a civil 'good morning' to her was her own business.

Scraping sounded from beneath her. The tables and chairs in the kitchen were being reshuffled once again and Cassy was quite desperate to see what it was they were doing. Instead, she picked up the second box of her belongings and moved them into the hall. Most of her clothes had been collected by Tonks when she moved in, if not all ready having been in her school trunk. She placed it beside the first and stared at the door opposite her own. Slowly, her hand rose to the handle. It clicked open softly. It did not creak, or wail as it was pushed open. It was well used and well cared for; the last thing Alphard had wanted when Cassy was a young child was alerting her to his late night work when she should have been sleeping. Cassy would have been up and out of her room before he had had a chance to sit at his desk, demanding to know what he was doing and if she could see and read over the papers she would only understand every other word of.

The study had not changed since then. The books were different, perhaps, and the shelves stocked with new potions and instruments, but the layout was the same, the furniture old and sturdy, and the photographs ever present.

Cassy looped back out of the room to collect an empty box from the pile. There were books she needed to put into storage to protect and ones she wanted to keep on hand herself. The shelves covered either side of the fireplace, punctuated by files and ornaments he had gathered from his tours around the world.

In her mind, she could hear Alphard scolding her for touching them. He would have complained he would have to spend hours reorganising them, when she knew in reality he knew their order off by heart. It would have taken him ten minutes to put everything back into place and perhaps that was why she never minded being scolded, because she knew Alphard well enough to know that when he reprimanded her it was because he felt like it was his duty to, not because he actually cared she had stepped out of line.

Another book was added to the shallow pile in the box before Cassy sunk down into his chair. Her fingers lingered on the edge of the desk, slowly slipping around the edge of an abandoned tea cup. She rubbed over the dark pattens on the pale porcelain and sighed deeply. Her attention then moved to the papers on the desk. All stacked neatly on top of one another, the papers had been set with the same care and attention they always had been. She scanned the titles of the first few pages, revealing out-dated orders for the company and letters of correspondents with colleagues. Above them sat a scroll of thick parchment. It was unsealed and next to a blank envelope. It read:

_'The various practical applications of Conjuring spells since 1850 and their weaknesses with examples'_

It was Alphard's seventh year Transfiguration homework he had never returned. He had written it for Professor Dumbledore at long last. Cassy gave a weak laugh and placed it back down in favour of the photo frame that was face down. It had always been, to her memory, flat against the desk. Beside it was a photograph of her and Alphard when she was no older than eight or nine-years-old. She was grinning up at him, sitting beside him on a wooden bench. He was smiling back down at her and the pair of them appeared to be discussing something Photograph-Cassy found most amusing. Her legs swung back and forth, no where near touching the pavement below and just barely skimming the wayward grass from the park surrounding them. A large tree stood behind them, offering scattered shade.

Cassy narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. She had never seen the photograph before and she struggled to recall a time where it might have been taken. She picked it up before righting the one beside it. Frowning, she brought it close to her face. The two people in it smiled, one grinning broadly and waving at her. A younger Alphard stared up at her a small smirk; his suit was cut and tailored to the best quality and so was the boy who stood beside him. He was about Cassy's age with hair to his mid-neck and bright, grey eyes. Her eyebrows dipped a tiny bit more as she placed it down on the desk. The small, metal clasps of the back were soon undone and the frame pulled away to reveal curling letters reading: 'Sirius and I – 1975'

Once pieced together again, Cassy plucked it up along with the other photograph and the essay and carefully squashed them amongst the books in her box. After all the time Alphard had been convinced Sirius had turned, he had still held on to one photograph of them together.

'You sentimental old man,' she mumbled fondly.

The wooden floor was hard beneath her, sending her legs numb long before she thought to stand again. She knelt in front of the lower cases of the cabinet. Alphard's previous colleagues had sent her a letter requesting she send the remaining unfinished work documents back to them. They had most all ready from Alphard's own effort, but she held a small list of missing items. Folder after folder, she peered inside and flicked through the endless sheets. Although it was not hard to understand his system, she hardly understood what the items were to contain to find them. They were projects and potions far beyond her level and if they had not asked for them then Cassy was certain she would have sifted through them all nosily before she finished Hogwarts.

At this rate I will not be able to answer Harry's call again, she thought with a sigh. She forced her hands to move even and pack. It was slow and arduous; she could no longer imagine why she had thought it would be a quick, if painful, affair.

It had become a habit to call one another in the evening. Harry would murmur to her about his relatives, complaining of another newly enforced diet and Dudley's renewed confidence with his boxing. The only night she had missed was that of Alphard's funeral. He had tried to talk several times, but the mirror was shoved under her bed and forgotten that night. The next day he had fussed.

While it was flattering that he worried, thought Cassy as she pulled at the loft hatch in the hall, it only made her feel worse and quickly he had stopped asking at the repeated pained flicker on her pale face.

Heaving a second box of books up the ladder with great effort, Cassy huffed as it slid noisily away from the hatch. Suddenly, her idea of hiding things there in case of burglary in her absence seemed like too much effort to sustain. She peered around in surprise. Alphard was not sentimental, but there were many boxes in his loft. Hoisting herself up, she perched precariously of the edge of the hatch. Half-heartedly, she pulled the closest box to her and wiped the thick dust from the top.

'Sirius,' she read quietly.

Her eyes darted around at the other boxes, wondering if that is why they were there. Alphard had been given her father's belongings when he was incarcerated and he had stored some of it, at least one box, when he could have quite justifiably thrown it all away.

The old tape was ripped from the seems and the flaps were thrown open. An old Beater's bat, signed by someone Cassy had never heard of, an old Gryffindor scarf, several muggle records, and a small stack of photographs. Instantly, she froze at the photograph on top. Two tiny children sat on a bright mat, paper plates in front of them filled with tiny sausages and bread sticks. The girl was easily recognisable to Cassy, having seen several of her own childhood photographs before. Her hair was only at her shoulders, not mid-back, and her eyes were still large and bright blue. She wore a red dress and the boy beside her, a tuft of black hair jutting out in all directions, wore a similar coloured shirt. His eyes were a beautiful green. Suddenly, he plucked the hovering Snitch from the air and held it out to the girl beside him and she took it, handing him a bread stick in return.

The next photograph was of James and Lily, both donned in colourful paper hats and pulling faces at one another in the Gryffindor common room.

Cassy did not look through the rest. She took the entire stack and hurried back down the ladder before she gave in to the urge to rummage through the rest of the boxes.

She wondered if Harry would understand today if she could not bring herself to have a conversation with him. He had become irritated by the lack of news and Cassy thought that it was that which fuelled his regular calls as much as a desire for company and concern for her. He had heard nothing about Voldemort all summer, but neither had Cassy. It was not as if Professor Dumbledore was personally keeping her updated, and Tonks was very reluctant to discuss what she heard at work, although she did give the odd impression she had got, nameless and vague. For the most part, Cassy could easily be under the impression that there had been no change whatsoever, but Tonks had been spending more and more time out of the house lately, coming in late and bringing back people she did not seem to know well for a cup of tea, or staying at her parents' for an unusually long time. Cassy was not willing to assume, but Tonks was an Auror and that meant something quite significant in a building war.

Besides, she thought in amusement, all the conspiracy talk with Harry certainly sought to brighten his day.

As far as Professor Dumbledore was aware, Cassy was not in any sort of correspondence with Harry. He had asked her in a letter one morning, not to contact him too often and he very careful what she writes. She had held the mirror up to Harry the same evening and he had been furious, ranting loudly in his bedroom so violently that his uncle had to venture in personally to get him to quieten down. It was a sign that Professor Dumbledore was taking his account seriously, she assured him, post could be tracked and if intercepted it could easily either lead to his whereabouts, or give away important information.

'Why couldn't he tell me my post had to be limited for safety?' Harry had snapped immediately. 'He could tell me things, rather than having to find out like this. Would I even know if we didn't have these mirrors? Dumbledore should be telling me these things and keeping me in the loop. I am more capable than any of you, _I_ saw him come back and _I_ haven't heard anything! You get to ask and probe even if you get nothing, while I am stuck here by myself without a wizard in sight!'

'Well, yes,' Cassy had growled, 'you are more capable than me and I am not asking too many questions right now because I have a funeral to plan! Sorry for the inconvenience.'

She had ended the call after that. Guilt hit almost instantly, but she refused to ring him back. His anger was utterly misdirected. She spent a lot of her time making sure he was up to date with everything she knew, he had no right to shout at her. She spoke to him even when she wanted to be alone, when she wanted to shut out the world and just sit mindlessly, just read, or force Crin into sitting with her, or simply just to sleep. She had given him enough of her effort not to be rewarded with that.

He had called her back two hours later to apologise. Since then their calls had been filled with restrained anger and bitterness, but Harry held it together well; Cassy knew it was only a matter of time before all of his rage exploded outwards though.

A sudden crash pulled Cassy from her thoughts. She had remained standing outside of Alphard's bedroom, the one place she was truly reluctant to enter. Turning on her heel, she headed downstairs towards the sound. Several muttering voices could be heard from the kitchen.

'It's fine, it's fine,' said Tonks quickly. 'I'll just repair it and it will be good as new.'

Cassy entered just in time to see the shattered pieces of an old family plate fly back together. Tonks looked up at her sheepishly.

'Sorry,' she said. 'I thought it was odd I was doing so well not to break anything. It just caught up with me eventually.'

Cassy took the plate from her hands and twisted it, inspecting for cracks. 'It is fine, Tonks. I appreciate the help, even if things do occasionally get broken. Although try not to let it be a collectable.' She placed the plate back down on the table and left without another word. It was not until she was climbing the stairs that she heard the second pair of footsteps behind her. She turned at the top and Tonks halted suddenly, looking somewhat abashed.

'I thought maybe you would want some help up here. You have been by yourself for three hours now and I wondered how you were getting on...' she said, ruffling her short hair.

Cassy stared at her, before pursing her lips.

'Okay,' she said eventually. 'I could do with some help cleaning his room.'

Tonks nodded slightly. 'Yeah, I imagined you might. Let's get this done so we don't have to build up to it again.'

* * *

**Welcome to year five! There are going to be several things going on in this year that I am excited to explore at last. I hope you will enjoy it, but I must say that this is a difficult year for me to write simply because there is a lot going on through the books as it is, let alone with me adding another character in. Rest assured it will be completed though!**

**A little insight into the early weeks of Cassy's summer. As before, I have never written grief, but I have put a lot of thought into how I want it to effect Cassy and what it means to her. It will be a major theme. Personally, I find a weakness in books commonly to be that they do not explore grief very well a lot of the time. I don't want to be to heavy on it because I know it will put people off reading, but in the first few chapters, at least, it will be. After that, it will rear its head as Cassy tries to rebalance her life after all her foundations have fallen apart.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy.**

**Thanks!**


	2. The Order

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter II: The Order**

The Sun was hideously bright. It shone through the thin curtains, illuminating every single corner of Cassy's room. A tiny clock on the bedside table read half-seven. Just as quickly as the light emerged, it vanished again behind a thin, drifting cloud, but the damage was done; Cassy was wide awake. Her eyes protested, stinging from lack of sleep and the rude awakening four hours after her mind had finally shut down. The book she had been reading was still resting beside her head and the lamp was still shining. She lay there for a time, blankly, fiercely willing her body to submit her mind to sleep once more. It did not work and the longer she lay awake the more active her thoughts became, until eventually she slunk out of the thin covers to rummage in the little wardrobe wedged in the space at the end of her bed.

She wore a thin, dark green loose fitting jumper with her skinny jeans. It was warm outside, but overcast and Cassy did not have the effort to make herself presentable enough to warrant one of her pretty dresses. She wrangled her thick hair into a messy bun without much thought as she padded out and across the cool laminate.

'Slept rough, did you?' teased Tonks. Her hair was blonde today. 'You look like you have just crawled out of bed.'

Cassy does not laugh. Instead, she shifted from foot to foot, eyeing her shoes that Tonks had placed under the desk in the living room.

'May I go out?' she asked.

'Don't you want to eat something first? You hardly ate last night.'

Cassy did not have to look at Tonks to know she was frowning. She slipped her hands into her pockets and shook her head. She said, 'I am fine. I will eat when I am out. I just feel a bit restless.'

'You are always feeling restless,' muttered Tonks. She sighed and nodded. 'Just remember to take your wand and stay away from anyone who looks like a witch or wizard, all right?'

The warning had been the same the last few times Cassy had left the flat. There seemed to be some sort of vague worry that Cassy would be taken from the streets, which she found amusing. For someone not much older than her to be worried about things she would clearly remember not being concerned of at her age was bizarre. When she had first said it, Cassy had held her stare, watching her face for little changes, the small quirk of the lip that indicated Tonks was upset, or the twitch in her eye she always did when angry. Tonks held her stare entirely; Cassy noted that as meaning Tonks was not telling her something. She had been forced into enough conversations that summer to know that Tonks held eye-contact briefly before gesticulating wildly and staring off around the room in keen curiosity in case something more interesting happened to be occurring elsewhere. She had held her gaze. It had to be serious.

The next conclusion, recalled Cassy as she slipped her wand and a few Muggle currency notes into her pocket, was that Tonks was aware of something more sinister occurring. If Voldemort was back, which Cassy had yet to doubt he was, then Tonks may suspect she was a target of sorts for being so close to Harry. Tonks had no reason to believe he had returned though, with the Ministry of Magic taking every opportunity to discredit Harry through snide comments about his fame and state of mind in the _Daily Prophet_ frequently. She had listened to Cassy's retelling and nodded along. She had said nothing else on it though and Cassy was at a loss as to whether she believed her or put it down to a thought cultivated by grief.

Cassy made sure not to touch the railings of the communal staircase as she descended. There was an odd smell that constantly lingered and more than once small groups of teenagers had been caught gathering suspiciously, cigarettes in their hands and watchful eyes. Tonks would always stride past them and they would greet her each time with a level of respect that made Cassy think Tonks had probably punched one of them for daring to talk back to her, because they appeared to be very careful of what they said in her presence. By default, they left Cassy alone too.

If Cassy had thought it was bright in her room, she had to consider outside blinding. Light reflected off the tall, metal buildings, shining down on the roads and cars in a maze of furious white light. She put her hand up to her forehead. There was a slight bit of regret that she had not bothered to find her sunglasses in the boxes, but that would require unpacking and she frankly did not want to, even after almost a month of living there.

The traffic was building to peak rush hour. Cars and buses swerved around one another, squeezing in and out of gaps they could hardly fit through in an effort to be the first vehicle moving. Careless Muggles on bicycles did the same and even more precariously, riding high on their seats as they turned out into traffic, ignoring the red lights and the oncoming cars.

Down the street, she watched as people hurried to descend below the earth to the underground trains, ignoring their frequent arrivals in favour of blind panic that missing one would set them back an hour instead of a mere two minutes. Turning, Cassy wandered off in the opposite direction. She had made the mistake of passing through the tunnels to see what the fuss was about once before and in a tangle of limbs and flailing briefcases, she had regretted every moment of it, even if it had been fascinating to watch them all struggle to get on and off the train in time.

She wandered to a quieter part of London. While it was nothing compared to her home streets of Canterbury, she found it easier to navigate the winding roads and oncoming pedestrians as she moved away from the main roads and into a distant shopping district. It was not too far from Diagon Alley, she noted, passing by a familiar bakery that sold questionable sweet goods in a range of wizarding flavours to anyone who entered. For a moment, she considered spending her day wandering through the district, but Tonks' warning echoed in her mind. She was not supposed to approach anyone who appeared to be remotely wizard-like.

Not that Tonks would know if I did, she thought slyly and then her expression flattened. Tonks was an Auror, she probably would and then Cassy would certainly not be allowed out of the tiny flat again.

She sighed and doubled back round. There was no harm in going to the bakery at any rate.

Soon, Cassy sat on a bench opposite a park. A pastry with a bright orange centre was in one hand and a coffee was held in the other. She watched the traffic pass and eyed those walking critically, trying to work out their occupation and where they were heading so early for the sake of amusement. It did not work as well as it had guessing how people had died with Harry and Neville, but it kept her occupied enough as she waited for her food to cool.

'Hello,' came a voice from beside her.

Cassy had been careful not to initiate eye-contact with the boy who had sat beside her some time ago. Slowly, she turned to him, wearing her best face of surprise and trying to appear as if his greeting had come as a shock.

'Good morning,' she returned.

'Are you from around her?' he asked, moving his dark hair from his eyes.

'I have lived here for a while, but I am originally from Canterbury,' she said. Slowly, she squeezed the filling from her pastry.

'Why did you move?'

Nosey boy, she thought bitterly.

'Change of scenery,' she said simply.

He nodded. 'You parents fancied a move?'

'Something like that.'

There was a dull silence and Cassy resumed people watching. She hoped if she was aloof enough then he would lose interest and leave. Instead, he leant a bit closer.

'What is that, in your pasty?' he asked.

Cassy looked down at it and replied, 'Pumpkin.'

'They do those?' His nose scrunched and his lips curled in distaste.

'They sell everything in London,' she replied with a hint of a smirk. The boy was certainly a muggle and Cassy could almost have smiled with the disgusted alarm that he looked down at the orange centre with.

'And the coffee?' he asked warily.

'Java.'

He looked considerably relieved at the normal flavour.

Cassy raised the polystyrene cup to her lips and took a long sip of the hot drink. She hated coffee. It was bitter and it all tasted the same to her, as much as she had been told by the cashier they were very different. She always brought the same blend and the regular workers always made it up for her before she had even got to order. It was vile, burning her mouth and infecting it with the taste for hours each day, but she never stopped ordering it. It smelt like home. Alphard would make the same kind each morning and have a different one for each time of the day. There was something comforting about being able to smell the familiar bitterness when she awoke and on some days it was the only thing preventing her from crawling back into bed. The coffee Tonks had was not the right sort, but the scent woke Cassy up each morning none the less, always a little calmer than on the days she had skipped that stage of her routine.

Across the road was a small newspaper vendor. While it would certainly not stock the _Daily Prophet_, Cassy had toyed with the idea of buying a paper when she sat down. The noise would only be obscured by the traffic and Cassy had limited interest in the ongoing Muggle Sri Lankan Civil War.

She took another sip of her coffee. Her nose crinkled slightly as she found where all the sugar she had put in it had gone to, apparently congregating in a single mouthful of vile bitter-sweetness that almost made her gag. The boy beside her did not notice. He began speaking of his own life. He was waiting to meet a friend who lived in London, but his train in had been early and he had left the station to find a payphone to let him know. He was from Surrey himself, like Harry, and Cassy considered asking him if they had met, but Surrey was a large place and not many people there appeared to like him. She swirled the drink in the cup. She would probably just throw it over him and leave if he said anything bad; she was not in a mood for a fight.

'You're very pretty, you know,' said the boy, suddenly.

Cassy kept her face neutral, yet an uncomfortable tingling ran over her skin. It felt odd to be complimented by a stranger in an informal setting. During a dance or a ball was something else entirely, not uncommon and frequent enough that many years ago Cassy had come to believe the words held some truth, but always they were said for politeness more than genuine thought. This time, Cassy felt the slightest bit flattered.

'Thank-you,' she said, with a short side-long glance.

Less than ten minutes later, the boy rose. He waved to a group of people walking towards them and they waved back enthusiastically. Then, he turned to her and said, 'You can come too if you like. It might be more interesting that eating that gross pasty of yours and staring at traffic.'

Part of her wanted to go. The boy was attractive and nice. It could be interesting, a break from the monotony that she had led herself into, but they would soon find her strange when she did not understand their references and their colloquialisms. She had two years of Muggle Studies behind her, which was not nearly enough and besides, she reminded herself, Tonks had explicitly told her not to wander off with strangers of any sort.

Cassy offered him a meagre half-smile and shook her head. 'No, thank-you, but it was kind of you to offer.'

He tilted his head and squinted at her. 'I bet you live in a nice part of London. You speak like you would.'

Cassy lifted and eyebrow and smirked. She watched him run to his friends. They chatted and looked back at her. She quickly ducked her head to her drink that she clasped with both hands. It was becoming cold and cold coffee was worse than hot coffee. Quickly, she down the rest of it and threw it into the nearest bin. She set off walking aimlessly, stopping occasionally to buy drinks or to sit, but she travelled a wide berth with no purpose. The underground was stuff, even with a lack of people after the lunch hour, and she sweltered in her woollen top for only a few stops before deciding she best get off. She had stopped stupidly to wait for the machine to give her back her ticket and a woman had nudged her sharply in the back, telling her to hurry along. Cassy strode passed the same woman on the stairs later when all of her bags had split and her things scattered. Apparently, she had bumped into another person for moving too slowly once more.

The sun was beginning to set when Cassy thought to begin the return journey to Tonks' flat. She had spent several hours in a war museum and had been caught marvelling at each item on display. They had never covered warfare in Muggle Studies and she had easily spent hours roaming the same exhibits. She bit her lip as she climbed the stairs of the apartment block. The lock clicked so gently that it was almost silent, but the flat was deathly quiet. It was shut just as softly, barely audible over the ticking of the large clock in the living room. Gingerly, she peered in the kitchen. There was no note on the counter to state Tonks had been called into work. A sweet scent flowed from the room and saucepans rested, cooling on the side and in the sink.

'Where have you been?' barked a voice from behind her.

Cassy jumped. 'Of all the times for you to be stealthy!' she breathed.

'You were supposed to be back over two hours ago!' snapped Tonks.

'It is not even dark yet,' protested Cassy. 'I would bet you hardly returned on time when you were my age.'

'I wasn't fifteen when You-Know-Who was running around somewhere unchecked, was I?'

There was an overwhelming desire to say that she was, actually, only Voldemort had not had a body, but she squashed it down quickly. She had never seen Tonks so angry and more importantly, Tonks was very serious about Voldemort having returned.

'I am sorry,' said Cassy quietly. 'Time just ran away with me.'

'Stop doing that – apologising all the time. You used to bicker back constantly and now you just cave and apologise to me. It's weird,' mumbled Tonks. She sighed and folded her arms. 'Look, I know it's boring and I know you hate being indoors, but we live in the centre of London. There are hundreds of witches and wizards who live and work around here and you will be easily recognisable as one of Harry's friends. Voldemort has been lurking around and we think he has a few contacts within the Ministry, so I am just trying to make sure you don't accidentally wind up somewhere one of them thinks it would be a good idea to hurt you.'

'You think he has infiltrated the Ministry?' repeated Cassy seriously. 'How would you know that?'

'You don't really think we've been doing nothing, do you?' came a second voice from the living room. It was low and roughish, belonging only to Alistair Moody.

Cassy pushed passed Tonks and stood in the entrance to the living room. In the wide armchair, he sat. His wooden leg protruded from beneath his dark trousers and his magical eye flittered madly before settling squarely on her. His hair was as wild, but his face was gaunter than the imposter that had taught them the year before from having been kept barely alive in a trunk for almost a year.

'Mister Moody,' she said curtly.

Moody snorted, 'I haven't heard anyone call me that for many, many years. I believe we've met before?'

'You cursed me in a cupboard, yes,' said Cassy frankly and he laughed loudly.

Tonks pushed by and settled herself down on the sofa, taking the seat nearest her mentor.

'You gave those Aurors a good fright when you befuddled them and hid. I don't think they would have thought to look there again if I hadn't spotted you through the wall,' he said with a wide smile, contorting his all ready mangled face. 'They thought they were cursed by the house.'

'That was the plan,' she said lowly, sinking into the seat beside Tonks at her incessant patting of the cushion.

'I am going to go and re-heat dinner,' announced Tonks. 'Then we can all have a chat during the meal.'

Cassy wondered what kind of a conversation she was supposed to have with the two Aurors. Tonks had mentioned that they knew something was happening and Moody had clearly stated there was some sort of counter movement, so Cassy's earlier suspicions of Tonks knowing more than she let on was correct. She dearly wanted to ask, but she forced herself to wait to hear what they had to say. There was no way that they could avoid it and if they tried then she had all ready begun plotting ways to extract information from Tonks, slowly but surely.

'I am sorry for your uncle's death.'

Cassy turned to Moody.

'He was a good man,' he continued soberly. 'I knew him from school and even though we were in opposite houses, I had to give him respect. He was very good at what he did and he was always very civil, even when you knew he didn't want to be.'

'Thank-you,' replied Cassy quietly. She was still not fond of people offering their condolences.

'Well, you might as well stay around to hear what we were discussing now. You will find out soon enough anyway,' he said, taking a sip from his hip flask. His magical eye roamed over the wall opposite and followed around as Tonks came through the doorway, hovering three bowls of stew.

'Since you have just got back, I thought you might like some too. I always make too much,' said Tonks, handing him a bowl. He sniffed it.

'Hasn't been poisoned, has it?' he asked gruffly.

'Not unless you failed to notice someone break into my house while you were here,' responded Tonks cheerfully. She handed the next bowl to Cassy before taking her own seat.

Moody hummed and took a sip. 'I was just telling Cassy here that we might as well fill her in on what's going on. She'll know soon enough anyway.'

'Do you think Dumbledore will mind?'

'She's going to have to be told sooner of later and in this block of Muggles is probably the best place for it.'

Cassy dismissed how they spoke about her as if she was not there. The stew was warm, refreshing against the cooled air of the flat. Tonks had obviously not meant they would be discussing the ongoings she had thrown at her when she walked in. Cassy was silently very thankful for Moody.

'We're going to be moving.'

Cassy turned to Tonks in surprise. 'Where?'

'Elsewhere in London. Well, I won't be there all the time, but I will come and go. I have a lot to do, so it will be more difficult to keep coming back here. It is easier if you are somewhere were you won't be alone all the time.'

'Somewhere I am not in the way,' offered Cassy, unable to keep her voice from becoming flat.

'You're not in the way,' frowned Tonks.

'You're going to be going to the heart of the action, actually,' interjected Moody. 'You will be staying at Headquarters.'

Cassy wondered how well the wards on the flat would have to be charmed for him to be able to admit that.

'Dumbledore is on the move. He has been making little excursions and building support for a while. That's why I haven't been around so much lately. Moody approached me about the Order and I have been doing a few tasks for them as well as working,' explained Tonks.

'The Order?' repeated Cassy.

'The Order of the Phoenix,' answered Moody. He dropped his spoon back into his stew and set it on the coffee table. 'It is an old organisation that Albus set up in the first war to fight You-Know-Who. He's reformed it after the incident last month. We're just getting back onto out feet.'

'And a resistance is mounting? How well? The Government are not keen to publicise Voldemort's return,' said Cassy warily.

Moody stared at her with widened eyes and Cassy stared back. He began nodding with a bit of a smile and said, 'Not many people dare to use his name. I suppose you hear it a lot from Potter?'

'You glorify him further if afraid to even speak his name,' she said calmly.

'Too right,' said Moody.

'Anyway, progress is slow at the Ministry. We have to be very careful who we speak to. We could lose our jobs if the Ministry thinks we're stirring things up,' said Tonks lightly. 'We are making some headway though.'

'There are a few of you within the Ministry then? You said 'we' and you cannot be referring to Moody because he is retired. Who else is there?' she asked curiously.

'Ah, you got me,' said Tonks. 'I can't tell you though. We don't want it getting out.'

Cassy hardly considered it likely she was going to string the names from the window in a great banner of betrayal, but she nodded along anyway. It never hurt to be cautious.

'Are you all right with moving? I know you've only just got here, but it will only be for this summer and if you would rather stay here then that is fine, but some of your friends will be moving into soon too,' said Tonks, when Cassy failed to respond.

'Who?'

'Arthur and Molly Weasley and their kids will be there by late July,' said Moody.

Harry had mentioned the Weasleys had been asked to take immediate action, but Cassy was surprised that they were willing to uproot all of their children. Cassy's eyebrow began to drift upwards as she wondered how large the Headquarters was.

The conversation did not continue much after that. All the information she had been told was what they had deemed necessary. Any further questions she had were rebuffed with 'Order only', or 'You can know when you're of age'. Tonks had giggled at Cassy's flat expression and told her how she knew it was irritating, but they were on Dumbledore's orders. It was the same man who had asked them to alienate Harry for the summer and as soon as Tonks collected the bowls and Moody dismissed himself, Cassy was in her room, rummaging beneath her pillow for the two-way mirror. She jumped up again to lock the door and turned on the radio on the desk beside it, letting the Weird Sister's fill the room.

'Harry,' she hissed, turning the mirror. 'Harry!'

'Evening,' came the low response. Harry's bottle green eyes popped into view and his eyebrows suddenly rose. 'Been in the sun today?'

'A little,' said Cassy, checking for pink patches on her arms. 'Anyway, you will never guess what I have just been told.'

Without missing a beat, Harry brought the mirror closer to his face and Cassy launched into an explanation of everything she knew. She might not know where Headquarters was, but she knew that there was one and that had Harry sighing in relief. The news had been a long time coming and the sound of it seemed to calm his fraying nerves greatly. He had just as many questions as Cassy had and she rebuffed him just the same as she had been, laughing under her breath as his eyes narrowed before grinning.

'This is great, but it would be nice if Dumbledore actually came here and told me himself,' he said.

'By the sounds of it, Professor Dumbledore has not been around much at all. He is very heavily involved with the Ministry and is getting into a lot of trouble for spreading your story,' said Cassy. 'The Order seems to operate on a needs basis. I only know because Tonks cannot handle having me and her work. She needs me out of the way.'

'I'm sure it's not like that,' assured Harry with a slight frown. 'Besides, you get to be at the heart of it!'

'I am not sure I can find out too much, actually. They seem to be reluctant to mention anything they thought I was too young for. It does not seem to matter to them that when war breaks out I will be fighting, all they see is my current age,' she said irritably.

'Well, they better not try and hide things from me later – assuming I ever get out of here... Dumbledore certainly wants me kept in the dark.'

'I will try and change some minds when I am there. I go next week. It should be an experience.'

'I wish I was there,' he said quietly.

'I will tell you everything I find, I promise you that much,' she said.

'Not because of that – I mean, it will be great, but I all ready know that. I just mean so you aren't stuck in another house by yourself. I can tell how much you hate being where you are and to move twice in a month must be hard, especially to one filled with people you probably won't know,' he explained, frowning slightly.

That is really sweet, Cassy thought instantly and ducked her head. She smiled slightly at him and said, 'Thank-you, Harry. I am sure it will be fine, though. It has to be more interesting than being here.'

'You're really sunburnt, you know. You should do something about that.'

Cassy was not sure it was the sunburn making her face red.

* * *

**Well, here is chapter two. Introduction of the Order and some more general life of Cassy mulling around in London. It has only been about three weeks since Alphard died, if anyone wants a timeline.**

**I think Tonks would be a bit snappy because she worries and Cassy is moping around in a dangerous city instead of doing as she's told. I feel as though irritation would rise with the pressure she has at work, with the Order, and with being responsible for Cassy, but she means well. I know in the explanation Rowling released of Tonks and Remus' confession, she was angry with Remus for not realising she liked him and was pretty snappy then, so I am basing it off that. I don't really recall seeing her angry in the book, to be honest.**

**Hope you enjoyed it. Please review!**

**Thanks!**


	3. Grandmother's house

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter III: Grandmother's house**

It was fortunate that Tonks had charmed her flat with a cooling charm for the summer or else Cassy might have easily over-heated in the four hours she had spent beside the oven in Tonks' tiny kitchen. It was nice enough, although very bright and not well cleaned at all. Tonks once told her as long as it looked clean then it was clean enough for her and Cassy had not minded until she had leant in a particularly sticky patch of counter.

Cassy ran her hands under the tap once again as Tonks poked her head through the doorway. She giggled and grinned, putting armful of bags she was carrying down onto the counter.

'Still baking?' she asked, plucking one of the disregarded cookies up front the pile beside the kettle.

'The first batch was burnt, the second tasted odd, the third needed more sugar. This one, however, tasted really nice as a dough, so I am hoping I have mastered it,' replied Cassy, kneeling in front of the oven to stare through the glass door.

'I don't see what's wrong with this one,' said Tonks. She picked up another and her face instantly crumpled as if having licked soap or something equally disgusting.

'I piled them all together,' admitted Cassy with a low laugh.

'I assume that was one from the second batch,' said Tonks weakly. The remains went straight in the bin. 'Do you cook often, or is this a new hobby?'

'I have never made more than a basic sandwich, to be honest. Harry once told me he would teach me to cook. He cooks a lot for his relatives,' she said.

'I see why you don't cook. I mean, I wouldn't if I had a pair of house-elves. I don't really cook now, if I could afford it I would have take-away every night. Then again, I don't think I would pass the Auror standards if I did that, I don't think I would be fit enough, but it would be worth it to have Chinese or Indian every night.' Tonks stared up at the ceiling. 'Do you fancy Chinese tonight? I get off work a bit late.'

'I have never had it.' Cassy opened the oven to turn the tray around with a tea towel. She looked up and behind her at the lack of response. Tonks was staring at her in shock.

'Never? Blimey, you don't know what you're missing,' she said, sounding a lot like Ron suddenly. 'That settles it. We'll have Chinese when I get back at about seven then.'

Cassy put all the used utensils in the sink and Tonks waves her wand over them. The brush lifted itself and began to work.

'Where are those house-elves of yours?' asked Tonks.

'In Canterbury. I do not have much use of them here and they like to keep the house clean. Besides, they would have a fit if they saw me doing my own cooking. They fidget enough if I make my own drinks,' muttered Cassy and Tonks laughed.

Cassy was privately very pleased Plum was keeping herself busy with the house. More than once she had been forced to shoo her little elf from her room, her patience quickly wearing thin at her insane demands. It had started with infrequent requests for her to eat more, easily brushed away, but as time progressed, they became more common and Cassy did not want disturbing each night with a bowl of non-requested food shoved under her nose. Those had attempts had given way to questions about Narcissa and Draco, whether she had written to them, or heard from them, prompts that she should make the first move, even though she had and had been rejected.

A flicker of resentment rose within her chest one evening and she turned to the pair with narrowed eyes. She should not have let them become so familiar with her, cross the boundaries that others had always set and allowing them to make such demands. In an instant, she banned them both from speaking to and of Narcissa in context of contacting her. They were not to ask, or prompt, unless news of her having contacted Cassy appeared first. They were not to try and force her to eat when she did not want to, not do anything she did not want. They could suggest, but were to drop the topic if she declined. It was the first strong command she had ever given them and was lenient at best, but it did what she wanted. It shocked them into doing as she said anyway. She silently congratulated herself on not banning everything outright. The house-elves sunk and withered under the intensity of her stare, even though she had refused to glare.

Opening the oven once again, Cassy pulled the tray out. The cookies were a light golden brown and a sweet, delicious smell filled the air.

'They look good! Personally, I can't make shortbread. My mum makes the best. The only thing I can bake is cupcakes and plain biscuits. I'm not really into baking any more than cooking, you see, unless it involves eating it!' Tonks grinned cheekily. She plucked one of the fresh cookies from the tray, gasping as she threw she steaming treat from hand to hand. She dropped it down onto the side and Cassy fixed her with a very pointed look.

'And how old are you?' she drawled. 'The rest of these are for Harry, anyway.'

'Oh?' said Tonks, shoving broken bits into her mouth as if it made a difference to the heat. She fanned her mouth. 'Why?'

'Because he does not eat well at home,' said Cassy shortly. She was not about to divulge Harry's family life to people who did not even know him. 'Besides, they would just bulk up the present I brought him this morning.'

'Wha' 'id' woo ge' 'im?' questioned Tonks, unable to shut her mouth, steam escaping thickly.

Cassy paused and stared for a moment before saying, 'Some trainers and a pair of goggles for Quidditch that adjust to his eyesight.'

Cassy hated all of his shoes, they were tatty and old and she had been unable to resist when she had spotted them in a Muggle shop window a few days ago. She had all ready purchased the goggles, having heard much of him complaining in previous years that his glasses often slipped down his nose during the game. She had even bartered them down in price simply by asking a dozen questions and disconcerting the other people in the store so much that he wanted her out. It was a wonderful time-waster.

'How is the Order going?' she asked.

'Same as usual,' answered Tonks, carefully rummaging through the pile of attempted biscuits. 'The Headquarters is still a complete mess. You will have lots of fun cleaning, I'm sure.'

Cassy deflated very quickly at the idea of manual labour and Tonks cackled.

'How's packing?' Tonks carefully put the next cookie on her tongue, testing the flavour before taking a large bite.

'Complete,' she said. She had simply taken most of the boxes out of her wardrobe where she had stacked and hidden them weeks ago.

'You need to be ready at seven on Thursday morning and I need to go back to work. My lunch break is almost over. Have fun cooking and remember, Chinese tonight.'

Cassy waved and took the small box of cookies into the living room. Pausing, she scanned the skies through the open windows. There was not a bird in sight, no large owl flying back towards her with a parcel tied to his leg. Crin was nowhere to be seen and that was good. It meant that he had not been immediately sent back with the gift she had carefully selected tied to his leg returning with him. She did not know if it had been to the correct taste at all and not until September would be know anything for certain at all. After all, it was difficult to imagine wedding present ideas for those she did not know.

* * *

For the first time in weeks, the summer Sun was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds. The grey skies reflected the dark street, each house tall and thin with dark, grimy stonework and steps leading to the front doors with tiny gardens. Black bin-bags lined the streets, ready for collection. Several houses had cracked windows and yellowed net curtains behind dusty drapes. Dry grass sprouted from between the old paving slabs of the street.

Cassy, Tonks, and Remus stood between numbers eleven and thirteen. On either side of them were number ten and fourteen. Remus shifted with some of Cassy's boxes, reaching deep within the pockets of his tattered jacket to hand her a scrap of paper. She took it and read the little, scrawling writing carefully. It read:

_Twelve Grimmauld Place, London_

Cassy blinked, only mildly surprised. There was a rumble as numbers eleven and thirteen became to move apart from one another, revealing more dull bricks and dirty windows. The curtains were drawn on each and every level, looking very much as if no one was home.

'My Grandmother's house. How wonderful,' she said lightly.

Tonks and Remus turned to her in surprise as Cassy scanned the front of the house, drinking in every detail. It had been many years since she had last visited. Not much looked different besides the poorer appearance of the curtains. The entrance had never been very inviting in her memory. The paint of the door had begun to chip and peel and the solid, silver door handle was tarnished, yet still clearly shaped like a viscous serpent. She had never expected to enter the house again and she had hardly considered once her father escaped that it might be a place he would run to.

'I thought you would have forgotten this by now. Your Grandmother died a decade ago, if I recall,' said Remus, moving towards the door.

Cassy was vaguely aware of the way Tonks' eye was trained on the back of Remus, drifting from his head downwards in absolutely no hurry.

'To be honest, I have only seen the front once or twice and that was when I was leaving, so I could naturally see it from that perspective. Usually, we would Floo in,' said Cassy, dragging her trunk up the steps with a great deal of effort.

'The Floo has long since been shut off and that works well enough for us. It's safer if people have to be invited in,' responded Remus. He kicked the door with his foot, unable to reach the doorbell with the boxes he held. 'I see why you two needed another pair of hands.'

Cassy chose not to mention that she would have taken less of her belongings if she had to carry it all herself; he had dug his own hole by offering.

The door opened suddenly. A tall, dark-skinned man stood there, looking down at the three of them critically. His clothing was of a fine material, dark blue in colour and of a slightly longer design. It suggested he had a wand hidden beneath his jacket, holstered at his hip like Cassy had seen Tonks do on several occasions. This man was most likely an Auror and a good one if his clothes reflected his pay packet.

'Kingsley,' greeted Remus.

'This is Cassy,' said Tonks brightly, nudging the younger girl in the back.

Kingsley nodded at her and a slow smile grew over his face. He moved to one side, allowing Remus through and Cassy followed close behind him. 'Welcome. My name is Kingsley Shaklebolt. Your father is most excited to see you. You do not look surprised that he is here, although you shouldn't have known. It's top secret.' He cast a pointed look towards Tonks, who threw up her hands in defence.

'I was not told, but I am not surprised,' she said peering around the entrance hall. 'I knew he had to be here, the only way to enter the ancestral home is with permission of its current owner and that is him.'

An immediate smell of must assaulted Cassy's nose. The air was thick with it, mingling with the damp and a faint scent of bacon. The gas lamps that lined the walls burnt lowly, illuminating the piles of books and cloths that were pushed towards each wall. A chair sat beneath the covered window, stacked high with dusty shoes, some of which appeared to be children's and others had been worn away, their delicate materials unable to withstand time. It was in desperate need of a clean and Cassy was resentfully aware that Tonks had not been joking when she said she would be cleaning the house during her stay.

The wall paper was heavily patterned. It was similar to her house in Canterbury, but darker and less inviting, merging into the dark floorboards and the heavy frames of each portrait that lined the wall. The paper peeled backwards, dotted with small black marks that riddled the house with the foul smell. High chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their glittering crystals dulled exponentially by the years of dust that clung to them. Once cleaned they would fetch a grand price.

'A word of caution, some things in the hall like to screech, so watch your noise,' murmured Remus.

Cassy peered at him curiously. 'I remember a fair few items that would curse you or bite if you let them close enough.'

'I think we have yet to find those,' said Shaklebolt, his voice deep and somewhat wary. 'Much has been moved since then, I expect.'

Cassy's eyes flick behind him at the large curtain that spanned almost from the ceiling to the floor, pooling one the ground. It was squared at the top and Cassy had the curious desire to pull the cloth off and see exactly what they were hiding. She had not memory of such a thing.

'Leave your stuff here. I'll take it upstairs. I'm sure Tonks can show you to the kitchen,' said Remus.

'I'll give you a hand,' offered Shaklebolt before Tonks' arm wrapped around Cassy's shoulder and guided her down the hall. Cassy heard Crin squawk in protest, followed by a sharp hiss of pain as he nipped at the fingers of whoever had tried to pick his cage up.

There was a door just behind the staircase, dark and almost invisible to the eye, had it not been for the handle protruding. The stairs descending were rickety, old and uneven from many more years of neglect that the rest of the house. The ceiling was low and lights were dim. There were no windows of any sort in the basement. Candles covered the sides, carefully floating above the stacks of rubbish and bursting boxes that littered the floors. Several people sat at the table. Many mugs were spread across it, almost all of the chairs were vacant. Several people ducked and gathered materials, moving them from one pile to another with no real sense of reason.

The step beneath Cassy creaked. Everyone turned and a mane of black hair suddenly appeared from behind the table.

Resentment flared violently and suddenly from the unknown depths of Cassy's stomach. This man was not who she should be seeing, who she had missed so feircely, this was her father, but not her father figure. This was the man who had the title when she had lost the man who had earnt it; it was terribly _wrong_ to see him, he could not be what Alphard was – Cassy cut off her thoughts very suddenly. That was unfair; it was unfair to compare Sirius to Alphard. Guilt bubbled, as if her thoughts had tumbled out of her mouth, as though Sirius might have read her thoughts.

Where had that come from? She thought.

It was only worse when she saw his excited face. He opened his arms for a hug, before looking at his hands and wiping them quickly down on his trousers.

'Good morning,' she managed before he reached her.

He wrapped his arms around her tightly.

'Finally. It is good to see you again,' he said warmly.

Cassy almost felt sick with herself.

'Welcome to your ancestral home,' said Sirius monotonously.

Cassy laughed lowly. 'It is more dilapidated than I recall.'

'You should see how I remember it! If a single spoon was out of line you would be clouted,' he said. 'Of course, the crazy old bat would always know when you had moved something even an inch. The only enjoyably part of being here is the satisfaction of being able to throw everything she loved out. I was not sure if you would have been in the house or not, I knew you had met her, but I was uncertain if...'

'She would let me in? She was very reluctant, to my memory. I was hardly a welcomed guest and was told so on more than one occasion.' Her nose crinkled slightly at the thought of it.

Sirius wore an identical expression.

'Are you two sneering at each other, or...?' came Remus' voice from the staircase.

'Just sharing memories of my mother,' answered Sirius cheerfully.

Remus emitted a withered sigh. He stepped towards them with Shaklebolt following behind with a large grin. He asked, 'Again? That was almost the first thing you two said to one another when you met.'

'It's nice to have something common to bond over,' said Sirius airily.

'Is Kreacher still around?' questioned Cassy.

'Unfortunately,' said Sirius grimly. 'Whenever we try and clear up he takes things from the rubbish and he puts them back, or into his cupboard. It's a nightmare. We have two rooms completely cleared currently. One of them is yours, if you would like to see it.'

'Yes, okay,' said Cassy uncertainly.

He waved for her to follow him out of the kitchen and down the hall. They ascended the first flight of stairs and turned into an equally dark hall. The walls were still lined with stacks of books and the occasional silver plate or goblet. The floorboards creaked beneath their feet and the piles groaned, shifting precariously as they past.

'This was one of the guest rooms, so it was not so bad to clean. It was the first one I did, after one of the bathrooms, of course. There was a pack of pixies living beneath the bath over there,' rambled Sirius, pointing haphazardly to a door that was pushed to.

They passed several doors, each shut and some rumbling, until they came to one with more things stacked outside than any other. Sirius surveyed the mounds for a moment before admitting he had not considered moving the things he removed to a more convenient location. He had just been pleased to be finished and that was something she would quickly become accustomed to. While Cassy did her best to hide her lack of enthusiasm, her father turned to her with a wide grin and laughed to himself. She was unable to catch exactly what he muttered, but it sounded suspiciously like 'you are in for a treat'.

He pushed open the door and waved his arm for her to enter. Slowly, but curiously, Cassy poked her head inside for only a second before her eyes were are wide as saucers and her mouth opened with a thousand words on her lips.

'It's beautiful,' she breathed. While she had expected the same scruffy appearance of the rest of the house, only cleaner, but what she received in reality was very different. The walls were pale blue from ceiling to floor, with a white picture rail running high on the wall. It was filled with large, dark furnishings, old and ornate, managing somehow not to blend well into the large room. The floor was bare and stained and at the very end of the room was an old fireplace, much like she suspected the rest of the rooms to have. Her hands ran over the golden bedding on the double bed and down towards the trunk at the foot of it.

'I just painted it really. I thought blue would be better than the green, pealing wallpaper,' said Sirius, remaining in the doorway. 'I moved some of the furniture from other rooms too, but most of what you see was in here. It just needed a clean.'

Cassy peered up at the chandelier fixed on the high ceiling.

'Do you... do you like it?' he asked hesitantly and Cassy was inwardly shocked at the tone.

She turned and smiled softly. 'It is wonderful, thank-you. You really did not need to put so much effort in.'

'I wanted you to feel welcome and... I thought it might be nice to have a place to go to by yourself when you want to be alone,' he said quietly.

Stunned, Cassy stared at him. Her eyes softened further. He understood. Her father understood exactly how she felt; he knew of her desire to be alone, to vanish from the world and the eyes of everyone it it in an instant, unforeseeable and unpredictably. The guilt in her stomach moved up to grip her heart tightly.

'Thank-you,' she said quietly, trying her hardest not to mumble it.

He smiled at her and clapped his hand on her shoulder. He said, 'It's fine. All I had to do was buy some paint, the paper was so old that it hardly required any effort to tear down. I just... I'm glad you like it.'

The walls were a shade lighter than her childhood room, it was close enough for her mind though. Everything else was terribly wrong. The vast walls lacked her photographs and the pictures she had pinned up through the years that Draco had drawn her. The bookcase beside the fireplace was empty, not overflowing with books she had sneaked out of Alphard's study and off various shelves of the house. None of the many items Cassy had collected over the years cluttered the mantle. Traitorously, a part of her mind was all ready planning where she could place everything from her boxes.

Suddenly, the change of accommodation did not seem so temporary.

'It means a lot to me,' said Cassy weakly. Yet a large part of her wished he had not bothered at all.

He smiled, 'I will leave you to unpack. Join us in the kitchen when you are done, if you want.'

She nodded and he vanished around the corner. Quickly, she sunk down onto the springy bed, her legs unable to hold her. Her hand flew to her mouth and she breathed deeply, trying to calm her churning insides. Roughly, her free hand dug into the thin material of her skirt. She groaned, rubbing the palms of her hands into her eyes.

'How awful of me,' she grumbled.

Jumping up with more energy that she felt, Cassy strode over to the boxes that Remus and Shaklebolt had brought up. Tearing open the smallest, she extracted the little purple plant she had salvaged from home and placed it on the mantle, before adding the clown with the droopy legs she had received several years ago from Narcissa. She stared at it, considering putting it away again, but she had become accustomed to seeing it, no matter where it came from.

It was odd, thought Cassy as she unpacked, that she would bring so many items to a place she considered temporary. It was as if she was reluctant to part with any of it, just in case she did not have the option to return for it again. Frowning at her own thoughts, she placed the carved dog her father had brought her the previous year on the opposite end of the mantle. Her arms fell back to her side.

'Now I have gone and depressed myself even further,' she sighed. She moved away from the boxes and with it the desire to curl up on the bed until the feeling past. Instead, she ambled downstairs, taking a moment to poke her head into any and all unlocked rooms on the way. The bathroom was spacious and somewhat clean, if only liveable. Plum and Kitsy would have fainted with the state of it and Cassy filed the thought away, reminding herself to suggest their assistance to her father.

Most of the bedrooms were locked, although the occasional cupboard was open, packed with objects that clattered and spilled out into the hall each time she opened one. After she had gathered up the collection in the third cupboard for the second time – it had collapsed immediately after she had crammed it back in – she slammed it shut and considered containing her curiosity for places she new would not cause hassle.

The kitchen was emptier when she ducked back into it. Only Sirius, Remus, and Tonks remained, chatting over a cup of tea at the cluttered table.

'There she is,' said Tonks brightly. 'You will have to show me your room before I go.'

'Yes, sure,' said Cassy taking the seat beside her, opposite her father.

'Hang on, let me get you a cup of tea. Sirius was just making breakfast when we came in. Do you want some?'

'I am fine, thank-you,' said Cassy. She looked between Sirius and Remus. 'So, what has been going on with the Order then, how busy is Headquarters normally?'

'Empty,' said Sirius sharply. 'People come and go, but they rarely stay for long at all.'

'We all live busy lives and there are quite a few of us, but you will pick up on names soon enough,' said Remus, calmly brushing Sirius aside.

'So meetings and things are infrequent?' she asked.

'You will not be in on those. They are for Order members only,' said Remus sharply.

Cassy waved her hand dismissively. She had heard that before and had no interest in listening to the conditions again. Lazily, she looked at Tonks as she set the frying-pan alight. Remus rushed up to help, while Sirius watched curiously from his seat.

'She does that a lot. You will get used to it,' said Cassy quietly.

Sirius' eyebrows raised a little higher and it looked as though he was on the verge of smiling.

Cassy thought of Crin upstairs. He had probably made himself comfortable on her wardrobe by then, but she had a letter she needed to write and it needed to be sent soon. It was vital, she reasoned, that she sent it regardless of her restrictions on post. She needed to tell Hermione to spend the summer with her family and decline any invitation to stay at Grimmauld place. It was quiet and empty, dirty and cluttered. There was no vital information to be immediately acquired. It would be slow and required tact. Hermione had best spend her summer with her family, where she would be happy and relaxed, not pent up in a dark house, unable to even stand in the garden in fear of attack. There was nothing for her here.

* * *

**Congrats on the end of your finals, _Clueless_, who requested I updated today! (Totally didn't mean to wish you a happy birthday, haha)**

**So, Cassy has entered Grimmauld place with no love for it. She's terribly conflicted over Sirius, unsure of what to do and how to act with him. I think Sirius would understand loss with all he has been through both before and during the war and would just _get it_. I don't, however, think he would know what to do with a teenage daughter, so I like to think they would both be as awkward as each other, haha.**

**Anyway, thank-you everyone for all of the reviews, favourites, and follows! It means a lot to me. To those of you who celebrate Christmas, Merry Christmas, and to those who don't I wish you happy holidays. I will update sometime before the New Year. **

**Thanks!**


	4. Connect and disconnect

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter IV: Connect and disconnect**

Light filtered in around the thick, golden curtains from the lamppost across the road. It barely coloured the darkened room, but it was just enough for Cassy to be able to make out the short, ambling figure at the end of her bed. It grunted lowly, muttering to itself in a deep, rough voice. Even though she had turned in her bed to watch it, there were no signs of it having heard her at all. Small, jangling sounds ran out occasionally, as if pots were clanging together as it walked.

Her wand was slowly pulled from her bedside table and her other hand reached for the lamp. The fire ignited and filled the glass jar at the touch of her hand, startling the creature into covering its eyes and cursing louder. It was not Plum, nor Kitsy, but rather an elderly looking house-elf with long, pointed ears and an even longer hooked nose. His beady eyes narrow at the sight of her.

'Kreacher?' she said, staring at him. She could hardly remember what the old house-elf looked liked, but she was certain this must be him. He wore a dirty loincloth, exposing his wrinkled torso and each groove of his spine. Yellowed teeth emerged from behind his sneering lips and he glared at her with distaste utterly uncommon for a house-elf.

'Terrible, so terrible, to have such filth in this house once more,' he muttered.

'How terrible it is to have an elf so rude,' retorted Cassy.

Kreacher's sneer did not withdraw, but his eyes widened and she shook his head as he said, 'Kreacher said nothing, nothing at all.'

Cassy stared at him. She was unable to tell if he genuinely thought she would dismiss his insult with such a weak lie, or if he thought she was unable to hear his constant remarks.

'Filth. Oh, what would Mistress say...'

Pursing her lips, Cassy spared a moment to consider her next action cruel, but it would result in one of two things, neither excellent, but one more positive than the other and both hopefully leading to the same conclusion, regardless of how slowly. Sharply, she called for Plum and Kitsy.

Initially, Kreacher stared at her uncomprehendingly, but as two faint pops broke the tense silence, he began to wail. His head flung backwards and he let out a horrible, guttural cry, clutching the silverware he seemed to have collected from the hall tightly to his chest.

'Get out. Get out!' he sobbed.

'Mistress,' said Kitsy over his cries. He bowed, his head turning to Kreacher in alarm.

'Oh, dear. He is very sad,' chimed Plum. 'Plum can help.'

'No, don't touch Mistresses things. Filth, unworthy!' snapped Kreacher.

Plum stared at him indignantly.

'How rude,' gasped Kitsy.

Cassy pulled the covers back and clambered over the bed to sit closer to the three house-elves.

'Did you wake Miss? What a rude elf you are! It is you who is unworthy,' scolded Plum loudly, ensuring she would be heard over Kreacher's wails.

'This is Kreacher,' introduced Cassy. 'Kreacher, these are Plum and Kitsy, my house-elves who also serve under the mantle of the Black household.'

'She doesn't count, Mistress doesn't let filth into the family - '

'How dare you,' cried Plum and Kitsy together, their large eyes narrowing into slits and their little spindly arms raised, ready to pounce if he dared speak another word.

'As this house is now under your late Mistress' son, my elves, as his daughter, will help in restoring this house to presentable condition. You will be expected to work alongside them. My father will surely instruct you of that if you resist, so I suggest you do it civilly on your own accord, rather than by standards you are unhappy with,' dictated Cassy.

Kreacher groaned and shook his head. He said, 'Kreacher does not take order from Miss, but Kreacher does not want orders from Master Sirius either... they are not to touch anything, not to throw anything away without Kreacher's approval. Kreacher is the only elf of this house, the only one whose head shall be mounted on the wall...'

At no point did Cassy expect Kreacher to actually follow through with his agreement of civility. He seemed to be firmly under the impression that no one could hear his mutterings. Years of isolation had made him deranged and she was certain that Kitsy would be able to ignore it, she had doubts that Plum would hold her tongue if she thought Kreacher was being rude to a human she was particularly fond of. Regardless, Cassy sent Kreacher from her room. He slunk out with his arms full of goblets and plates that she was certain he had been trying to deposit back in her room.

With a giant sigh, she fell back onto her bed.

'Can Plum get Miss anything?' asked Plum anxiously. She climbed onto the bed beside Cassy, peering down at her with her massive brown eyes.

'Mistress needs sleep,' added Kitsy, hoisting himself onto the other side of the bed.

'Plum can get something to help with that!'

'Quiet, noisy elfling,' scolded Kitsy.

Cassy sat up, stretching her arms high above her head. Sunlight was threatening to spill around the edges of the window and the clock had ticked around the half-five. It was almost sunrise anyway. She might as well stay awake, it would only take her an hour to fall asleep again anyway and by then her father would be calling her for breakfast at eight. It was a waste of time.

Plum and Kitsy popped back out of her room at the promise she would call on them later. They had both become fidgety with her infrequent calls, the threat in their minds that she may not need them anymore. Not that Cassy would ever set them free; she had seen what it had done to Winky and she imagined Plum going the same way. Kitsy may have been able to find another family, but he was getting on in years and not many families were keen to employ older elves. Besides, she thought, she had grown much too fond of them to let them go.

Although the door was shut firmly behind her, Cassy was sceptical that it would do anything to deter Kreacher from entering her room once more. She plaited her hair over her shoulder as she walked down the unlit hall. Carefully, she kept to the centre. She stepped slowly in case Kreacher had moved the clutter from the walls outwards in his effort to salvage anything and everything. The edges and outlines were almost visible if she were to strain, but she moved from memory with little issue. Besides kicking a goblet halfway down the hall, it was a surprisingly clear path.

In the entrance hall, there was a deep snuffling sound, off and rough, muffled almost. Cassy paused in her descent, but continued soon after. There were no creatures lurking in the hall who had taken up residency in the dark, but rather only Kreacher. The breathing soon turned to ugly sobs and any thought of it being something more sinister vanished.

At the foot of the stairs, she reached blindly out in front of her for the thick curtain that covered the only window. It was ripped open, allowing a faint, yellow light to flood in as the sun peaked over the houses. A hiss from behind her sounded and she ignored it, choosing to fiddle with the gas lamp on the wall instead. Precariously, she stood on a pile of books, Kreacher wailing from beside her, to fiddle with the manual ignition. It burst into flames, adding a fraction more light to the dingy hall.

'Kreacher, what a mess,' she muttered. The light had only served to highlight the mess Kreacher had made, littering the clear pathways with fabrics and cutlery, old books and shoes.

'Someone has to look after the house,' he breathed gruffly. 'Otherwise the Disappointment Son and the filthy Muggle-lovers would throw out all of Mistress' things things. Kreacher has to salvage them – _filthy elves thinking they can help. Only Kreacher knows best..._'

'Kreacher, you need to clean this up,' she said sternly.

'Kreacher does not take orders from the bastard child, oh no. No, he does not. Not even when she comes to check on him, threaten him with these other elves, no servants to the family, only servants to filth...'

'I can hear everything you say,' said Cassy impatiently.

'Kreacher said nothing, Miss. Kreacher would never speak against... a Black,' he ducked his head and dipped into a lazy bow. Stacks of newspapers were collected once again.

Cassy watched and debated. Surely it would be better to try and have his cooperate with them than continue as he is. If she was to come downstairs the next morning and find everything she had been forced to clean scattered about the house again she would be livid. Carefully, she knelt beside him in the same way she had done to Plum many years ago when the two first met. Kreacher looked at her with his dark, beady eyes.

'Kreacher, your Mistress has no need for such old papers. You would be able to make her more proud by restoring the house she adored to its former glory, do you not think?' she said carefully.

Kreacher stared at her for a moment and suddenly, as if the words took a moment to sink in, his face crumpled. His eyes sunk beneath his brow line and his lips drew back into a fierce snarl.

'How can The Bastard speak of what Mistress would want? Mistress hated her and she knows nothing of what she wants,' he seethed.

'Kreacher, calm down,' said Cassy, standing as he tore past her. His bony hands pulled at the thick, velvet material that hung against the wall. He was cursing and mumbling, pulling frantically at the fabric and Cassy's hands reached out to keep in in place, but he had all ready retched it away. A large, heavily framed portrait hung behind it. A woman, wrinkled and pale, opened her blurry eyes. Snow white hair fell around her face out of the black cap on her head.

'Who?' she asked croaking.

'Your granddaughter,' replied Cassy blankly.

Fantastic, she thought bitterly, of course she would have a portrait and what a ghastly one it was too. Cassy had always remembered her as a disintegrating monster, but the portrait only proved her memory true.

The woman stared at her and slowly said, 'Cassiopeia?'

'Yes.'

There was another long silence, then her mouth began to open wide. The wrinkled skin pulled tight, her watery eyes narrowing into icy slits. Cassy stepped back at the sight of it, bracing her ears just in time for the shout. 'Bastard child of my traitorous son! Gryffindor child too, I bet. Blood-traitors friends and Muggle-lover too.'

'I am good friends with the Greengrasses, actually,' exaggerated Cassy through her shouts. 'Narcissa had a hand in raising me, you might recall.'

Her efforts to pacify her grandmother did nothing. She continued to shout, calling her scum and demanding to know what else occupies her father's home. Cassy listened with her hands folded across her chest, unwilling to give her grandmother the satisfaction of seeing her cover her ears as she screamed of half-breeds and treachery.

'If I was alive - '

'Thankfully, you're not,' said drawled Cassy impatiently.

'You little tart!'

The curtain lay at her feet. There was no way she could fix it over the portrait again, she was simply too short and she would need to pull Kreacher from it first. He had tangled himself in it wailing along, answering each of Wulburga's questions, even though she seemed unable to hear him. Cassy's long fingers pulled at the edges of the frame as the shouts became louder. They could not slip behind, the portrait was charmed to the wall, so any hope she had of stuffing it in another room vanished. Scowling, Cassy pulled the curtain out from beneath Kreacher, who latched onto it, crying out.

'Mistress should not be covered so,' he argued, pulling back at it. Cassy ignored him and continued pulling, she looked behind her for something she could move to stand on quickly to wrestle it back over. Then, Wulburga's screams got louder.

'Traitorous son and his no-good daughter, tainting the Black blood. Look what you have done! You are no son of mine. Leave, scum, leave!'

'Oh, shut up, you hag,' came a sharp voice from behind.

Cassy whirled around. Sirius stood at the top of the stairs, his hair matted and his clothing crumpled from an obvious rush to dress himself. His bare feet padded down the stairs in no hurry. Roughly, he tugged the curtain from Cassy's grip, sending Kreacher sprawling across the floor and flung it back over his mother's portrait with little effort. He stepped back and she fell silent almost immediately, only letting out whispered insults sparingly.

'The rest of you can shut up too,' he snapped at the rest of the portraits in the hall that had begun to whine at the sound. They turned and mumbled to one another.

'Sorry,' said Cassy quickly. 'Kreacher pulled it down and I could not reach to put it up again.'

Before he had a chance to respond, she darted to the little door beneath the stairs and hurried down into the kitchen. Again, she reached out for the gas lamp on the wall, when it suddenly sprung to life with the rest following suit. Cassy lowered her arms and stood on the stairs stupidly before looking back up to her father in the doorway. Turning on her heel, Cassy strode over to the sink to fill the kettle. There was a creek behind her and Cassy was very aware that he had sunk into one of the old, wooden chairs surrounding the table. She ignited the hob beneath the kettle.

'I don't suppose you fancy making me a coffee?' he asked, his arms reaching around his head to run through his tatty hair.

'Where is it?' she asked.

'In the cupboard to the left of the oven.'

It was such an awful way to start the day. She had woken him up at sunrise and in the noisiest manner possible. Inwardly, she cursed her own luck. He had been very kind and understanding to her yesterday, which was a vast improvement on the last time the two were alone together and he had hexed and robbed her. She poured the boiling water into the two mugs and stirred.

'What are you doing up so early anyway? When I was your age I struggled to get up before lunch,' Sirius asked as she placed the cup down in front of him.

'I awoke to Kreacher ambling through my room,' she said, taking a seat opposite him. She sipped at her tea and Sirius grunted.

'There is a key somewhere. I found it when cleaning, but I would not like to say where it is now,' he admitted, his voice becoming high as he stretched. Without any regard to the steam the cup was emitting, Sirius downed his coffee. Cassy stared in shock before ducking her head down to her own drink. Faintly, she thought she heard a noise of pain, but Sirius was all ready standing to make himself another. He waved his wand to light heat the kettle once more and it began softly whistling as he piled his mug full with coffee.

'I am sorry for waking you up so early,' she said again.

Without looking at her, Sirius waved his hand dismissively. 'I have to clean anyway. It's all I have been doing lately, but there does not seem to be much progress. Dumbledore thinks it's too dangerous for me to go outside. He reckons Peter will have told Voldemort about my animagus form by now.'

Cassy frowned. The only way she had passed the summer was to wander aimlessly around London. The idea of being locked inside, especially this house, was unthinkable.

'Can you not just Dissolution yourself?' she asked.

'I have thought about it, but if I was caught I would be too much of a liability to the Order to be able to justify it. I would need a good reason to leave,' he grumbled with a heavy sigh. He stirred his coffee in disinterest. 'Things might pick up when other people start staying here frequently. The Weasleys will be here in three days.'

'That could only serve you make you more gloomy though. Personally, I find crowds worse when I am unhappy,' she said, stretching out on a limb to keep the conversation flowing. 'I hate being forced into conversation when I want to be alone, it makes me irritated with too many people hurrying about.'

Sirius laughed. 'You certainly don't get that from your mother and probably not me either, actually.'

Cassy's head shot up at the mention of her mother, but nothing more came of it. Slowly, she turned the mug in her hands and chose to scour the kitchen. It was manoeuvrable, but she was doubtful that they could fit all the Weasleys in around the rubbish. Contrary to her words, she was quite pleased with the prospect of seeing them all again. Curiosity peaked at the thought of being able to see the extent of Fred and George's investments with Harry's winnings. Ginny had mentioned they had been more secretive, explosions and bangs from their room, so she knew they must be making good progress. She had also said they had become a nightmare with their newly licensed Apparition skills.

Cassy and Sirius talked lightly while they cleaned, neither needing or wanting breakfast so early in the morning. They stacked boxes and labelled them for the curb. Most of their conversation revolved around the various creatures that he had discovered nesting in the house, or Cassy's frequent questions of where he wanted something placed. He was relieved to find Cassy had two house-elves eager for work and she set them off around the kitchen immediately, levitating boxes and scrubbing surfaces with an unnatural enthusiasm.

As Cassy rummaged through the unmarked bottles beneath the sink, she asked something that had been bothering her for a while, 'Why is Harry not allowed to know of the Order when he is the one who has faced Voldemort four times?'

Sirius' movements visibly slowed and his voice became tense. 'Dumbledore seems to feel that Harry should remain as innocent as possible in this, you all should. He is not keen for anyone to know more than they need to about the upcoming war.'

Just as before, Cassy failed to miss the bitterness he spoke of the Headmaster with.

'Does that mean you will try and keep me in the dark?' she asked, an edge crept into her voice that quite clearly let him know he would have a struggle. She raised one of her eyebrows and turned to him, but in contrast to her expectations he was not scowling, but grinning.

'Well, information was said to be at the desecration of the parent... so it depends on how much cleaning you get done today, I think,' he teased.

Cassy thought that had about as much bargaining power as telling her she would be grounded if she tried. It had absolutely none. She would find out one way or another and the dubious expression on her face only sent Sirius into a fit of laughter.

Many hours later, the doorbell rang and Kitsy popped out of the kitchen to answer it. The sound was shrill and there was a faint echo of Wulburga cursing up in the hallway, but neither Black sought to silence her. There was a shout and Sirius called back, directing the visitor to the kitchen. A head of brown hair and a scarred face appeared at the top of the stairs.

'How are things down here then?' called Remus.

'You are late,' reprimanded Sirius. 'Where were you when we started work at six?'

'Six?' repeated Remus incredulously. 'Afternoon, Cassy.'

Cassy returned the greeting with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Her hands twirled the bottles they held and she was a moment away from darting from the room with the excuse to wash up for lunch. Seeing Remus suddenly sent a rush of embarrassment surging through her bones. It was only when they had been interrupted had Cassy realised how comfortable she had become that morning with her father when she had been so uncomfortable hours prior. Although a lingering drop of guilt trickled through her, she found nothing like the rage she had had the day before. She had simply forgotten to feel uneasy

Her stomach gave a low rumble and Sirius clapped his hand on her shoulder, making her jump.

'I will start lunch now then. I will not promise a banquet, but I swear it will be better than yesterday now that Remus had brought us more food,' he said, rummaging through the paper bags Cassy had failed to hear be set on the table. 'Although, anything is better to me after eating mainly rats for two years, yet I do think I was spoilt by the Hogwarts' food you and Harry sent me in the winter.'

After washing her hands, Cassy sat at the table and watched Sirius and Remus try to coordinate their cooking skills. Neither seemed to have a great expectation of the other and Cassy was certain she was going to end up with two meals squashed tastelessly into one when they were done. She almost mentioned letting Plum or Kitsy cook, but their bickering was far more amusing and Cassy had a mental bet who would be the first on the floor with the way the pair kept nudging each other out of their stations.

The radio bumbled on in the background. She had brought it down from her room and Sirius had complained about 'today's music' and Cassy thought back to the records in Alphard's loft. Unknown bands and singers with worn, faded labels with Sirius' name scrawled across them. The music continued to ring out, giving way to the news. It was bland. There was nothing important to report. There were no attacks, or missing wizards, strange acts at all, only a street that had sprung a leak and shut down shopping for the day.

Cassy mentally noted that she needed to speak to Harry and inform him about everything she had found so far.

'...So Mrs Longbottom will be here for the next meeting to,' said Remus and Cassy turned to him, having missed the beginning of the conversation.

'Will Neville be here?' she asked keenly.

'Every time she is, by the looks of things. She seems to think it will be good for him. After all, his parent's were involved themselves. I think that's why she accepted Dumbledore's invitation, actually,' said Remus. 'Molly will be another story entirely though. Whenever we mention about it she is adamant that her children aren't to know anything at all. I agree that people within the Order should be kept out of it, but...'

'If you give nothing at all it will only spur them on to know more,' finished Sirius.

Remus spared a glance over his shoulder to Cassy. He had not wanted to say it in front of her in case she thought they were trying to pacify her with information, but she all ready knew that. Just because they told her some things, did not mean she would ever stop striving to know it all and she had a feeling the Weasleys would help her greatly with that.

* * *

The clock had just struck ten when the front door opened and half a dozen voices filled the air. A shrill scream punctuated it, their voices having disturbed Wulburga and faintly Sirius could be heard trying to wrestle the curtain back over her portrait.

Cassy wiped her hands and stood, looking over to Tonks as she did the same. Tonks' hair was stark white, having taken on the colour of the thick dust that lined the bedroom they were cleaning. In the past three days, most of the rooms they needed had been decontaminated, free of living creatures, but not cleaned. Old artefacts and questionable items still lay scattered through each room, but there was a considerably decrease in the chance that anyone would wake with doxy bites. Cassy discarded her gloves on the top of a box and made her way downstairs. Tonks followed behind her.

'Cassy!' came Ginny's cheerful shout over all the noise. Wulburga turned to shout about Cassy as Ginny jumped up the stairs to hug her tightly. 'How are you?'

'Fine, thank-you,' she said shortly. 'Good morning, everyone.'

'Morning,' came a range of voices.

The curtain was draped over Wulburga and Sirius ushered everyone down into the kitchen, eyeing Fred and George carefully as they flicked at the edge of the drape, looking very much like they wanted to give the shouting match another go. Tonks shut the kitchen door behind her and everyone gathered around the table. Their luggage had been left in the hall, but Mrs Weasley had brought various bags of fresh fruit and vegetables, cuts of meat and a variety of other foodstuff the house was in desperate need of.

She had barely placed the bags on the table when she doubled back around the table and captured Cassy in a fierce embrace.

'Cassy! It is good to see you. You are still much too thin. You need to eat better, but that's not to worry about now. I here to make sure you eat enough,' said Mrs Weasley warmly, pulling away just enough to inspect Cassy's face.

Somewhere behind her, Sirius made a throaty noise of protest.

Mr Weasley nodded his head at her and she returned it in kind. Cassy inclined her head away and listened carefully to the footsteps sounding softly overhead. The door opened and golden shoes slipped into view. Matching golden robes with paler, quivering suns splattered across. The long, white beard of Albus Dumbledore came into view and he nodded at everyone, smiling.

'I see everyone got here just fine,' he said.

'A little late, thanks to the boys, but safe enough,' said Mr Weasley, casting a long glance at Fred and George, who were carefully looking away.

'Not followed, I presume?'

'Not to our knowledge,' he replied.

'Good, good,' said Professor Dumbledore. He took a seat at the long table and everyone followed suit. Cassy sat between Ginny and her father. Sirius looked as if he was trying to work out which of the Weasley children were who from Cassy's explanations.

'Would you like some tea, Professor?' asked Tonks.

While she stood and counted the number of cups required for everyone, the group burst out into pockets of chatter. Fred and George had their eyes on the many boxes and Ginny was watching Tonks curiously. She dropped the kettle noisily into the sink and turned back to grin at Cassy quite unabashedly. Mrs Weasley looked on warily and then smiled softly.

'Do you need a hand, dear?' she questioned.

'No, no, I do this all the time. I'm quite used to it by now,' Tonks replied cheerfully.

Mrs Weasley looked desperate to help, but she sat back down.

'I thought I would just see how things were coming along here. Tomorrow, I thought it would be best to have a meeting to introduce some of the new members and catch up on the last two weeks, especially as you will both be free to attend,' said Professor Dumbledore.

'Yes, yes,' said Mrs Weasley quickly. She looked around the table to check if any of the children had heard and while they all faced other directions pretending to be interested in other things, they had each heard and sly glances between each of the teens told them all that it was something to be discussed later.

'I assure you, the notion of only those of age _and_ in the Order stands,' said Professor Dumbledore knowingly.

'We'll join!' chimed Fred and George eagerly.

'We keep asking,' said Fred.

'But mum keeps saying no. We're of age though,' added George.

'Your mother is in charge of weather you can join, since you are still in education, I am afraid,' chuckled Professor Dumbledore.

Cassy caught Sirius' eye, silently imploring for him to follow through and tell her what he would find. He held her gaze for several moments, before looking back to the conversation.

'How is Harry, Albus?' asked Mr Weasley.

'Perfectly fine, according to reports,' he said and Cassy's eyebrows began to drift upwards. 'The watch is still under way.'

Cassy, with her eyebrows raised as high as physically possible, asked, 'Does he know he is being watched?'

Professor Dumbledore turned to her and calmly stared over the rims of his half-moon spectacles. His eyes were duller than usual, lacking much of their usual spark, as if Cassy had stepped on particularly precarious grounds. She could not find it in her to care and continued to stare at his expectantly.

'No,' he said softly. 'It is better if Harry remains oblivious to what is occurring around him. It would only worry him and force him to fear something might be lurking outside his doorstep.'

Cassy let out a laugh, an unnatural sound between between horror and amusement. Mrs Weasley fidgeted at the noise, but Sirius did not move and instead watched her closely. Cassy's hands balled tightly into fists beneath the table.

'This is your idea of protecting him? Treating him like a fragile child, incapable of comprehending the truth?' she laughed, her voice an octave higher than before.

'Cassy, dear, now, Dumbledore does know best - ' began Mrs Weasley placidly, but Cassy rounded on her with another laugh.

'I know him best!' she said feircely. 'I know that he will not appreciate being treated like a child, not after having faced Voldemort – oh, do not flinch, you are supposed to be the resistance – and he will think you have abandoned him, the one person who is supposed to be supporting him! This ban on information is ludicrous – security is one thing, but one of you could speak to him as if he was a living being, not a toy. Once you lose his trust and being kept in the dark is a quick way to fuel his rage, then you will not get it back, no matter how good your reason.'

Her head turned between all of the adults as she spoke, each of them watched, stunned. Professor Dumbledore watched with a placid face, but his eyes were colder, more severe. Mrs Weasley had her hands gripped tightly at her skirt and her husband had one hand over his mouth. Remus looked down at the table and Sirius was nodding his head ever so slightly in agreement. Tonks simply looked shocked, her mouth open.

'She's right, you know,' interjected Sirius. 'Harry is not a child. He saw Voldemort return. He deserves to know what is going on.'

'He's a child, Sirius,' said Mrs Weasley quickly.

'He will not be a child forever,' said Sirius.

'There's no need to scare him though,' bit out Mrs Weasley.

'Scare him? You know what is scary? Not knowing what is outside your door, but knowing something is there! That is scary. How are they to feel safe if they know nothing at all? How are they to cope if something goes wrong?' Sirius' words were clipped and loud. He was barely restraining his anger and Cassy knew then for sure that the annoyance she had felt towards him yesterday had been utterly unfounded. He was on her side.

'Hopefully nothing will go wrong,' came the calm voice of Arthur Weasley. 'However, right now we can't say too much because we simply don't know enough to. We can't tell the children half-truths and theories. It won't do anyone any good.'

Sirius grit his teeth.

Cassy breathed out heavily. 'You may ignore me if you wish, but if you knew anything of Harry's home life, then you would understand that he is better off here and not with those Muggles.' With those final words, Cassy strode from the kitchen without so much as a backwards glance. There was too much she wanted to say and it was fortunate her father had backed her, or else she felt as though her cool words would have become furious demands and unreasonable bites. The Headmaster had visibly cooled at her interjection and she would certainly have to apologise for snapping at Mrs Weasley tomorrow. It felt almost ridiculous though, she had to admit, that despite everything Harry had gone through involving Voldemort, the four times he had tried to kill him in the past years, three of which had been during the school year, that no one would think it appropriate to let Harry know they were watching out for him. He could know that, at least.

Not found of the possibility of bursting into a righteous rage at the dinner table, Cassy vowed to find a more constructive and quiet outlet for her irritation in the future.

There was a knock on her bedroom door. She did not answer. She sat with her legs drawn to her chest and her arms wrapped around them, waiting for the person to give up and leave. There was a slight click and she moved her eyes to watch the key turn in the hole.

Sighing, she frowned as Tonks stepped inside and closed the door again; she ignored Cassy's thunderous face and took a seat on the end of her bed.

'So,' she said, 'that was quite the telling-off.'

Cassy continued to frown at her.

'You shouldn't pent up rage like that.'

'I am always angry, Tonks. If I did not keep it then I would be a very unfavourable conversation partner,' she said quietly.

'I was angry when I lost my grandmother a few years ago,' admitted Tonks, shifting closer to her on the bed. 'I always lost my temper and I know that that's hard to imagine, but...'

Grief was sadness, it was not anger. She was not angry at him for dying, nor was she angry at anything, she was angry at _everything_.

'You know, Dumbledore does know what he is doing, even if it seems a little strange,' said Tonks carefully.

'Yet, he does not seem to think of Harry at all,' she said bitterly and Tonks shook her head quickly.

'No, no. He is doing this because he does care for him. He cares for him very much and he wants Harry to be as normal as possible for as long as possible. He is not trying to hurt him, not at all. In fact, I think what you said hit him hard. He left as I was coming up here. Your dad was about to come and speak to you, but he got into a bit of a debate about what you said and got sidetracked.'

'Who disagrees then?' asked Cassy flatly.

'It's not like that, Cassy, really. No one wants anyone getting into trouble or fighting something you are not ready to fight. It's just worry, but no one disagrees that Harry deserves to know most of all, it's just complicated.'

'I helped get past the challenges to get the Philosopher's stone. I was the only person, teachers included, to figure out what lay in the Chamber of Secrets. I can handle knowing what is out there, Tonks,' she said icily. This conversation was becoming dry and Cassy did not care for it. She looked towards the window and across the road, watching the people in the house opposite flit about their living room.

'No one is disputing that, but no one wants to take action where we have to put under-aged lives in danger,' she said imploringly. 'Enough of that, you said you know a lot about Harry Potter. If you know the most, go ahead and explain everything about him to me.'

There was a long silence before Cassy sighed and uncurled. She crossed her legs and put her hands in her lap, thinking hard of where to begin. In the end, she began with his appearance. From his messy, thick black hair to his pale skin, his wiry build and his startling, almond-shaped green eyes. She went over how his round glasses were constantly being broken during Quidditch and how he would always risk his life to ensure they won. His sarcasm was prevalent and his flat humour had Tonks giggling as she listened. Finally, she concluded with his bravery and his selflessness, recounting each of their journeys together over the years, something she had not told any adult. To her relief, Tonks marvelled at them, remarking how it made her own school life seem terribly boring. When she was finished, Tonks watched her for a long time, smiling unnervingly until Cassy began to frown.

'You really like him don't you? Like, _really_ like him,' teased Tonks knowingly.

'Out,' said Cassy immediately. 'Get out my room.'

Tonks threw her head back and cackled loudly. 'It's fine! We're friends, we can talk about this. Besides, between you and me, Remus is pretty cute.'

Cassy stared at her blankly. She knew Tonks had been surveying Remus at the door.

* * *

**Lots of Sirius and Cassy bonding and conflicting emotion, anger and whatever else teenage angst is made of. I would be pretty angry myself if no one wanted to tell me anything and I understand Harry's rage in this year, as much as it would have made me want to smack some sense into him. Everyone else was being pretty passive about it. **

**I changed my mind about just updating chapter three. I quite liked this one, so I thought I'd put it up too. **

**Tell me what you think. Also, to Kaylee13133, thanks for saying this is your favourite OC/Harry Potter story. I'm really glad because I used to read them a lot and I remember some good ones, so competition is tough!**

**Thanks!**


	5. Fred and George's Extendable Ears

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter V: Fred and George's Extendable Ears**

Boxes were piled high, unlabelled and over filled. It was almost as if someone had begun clearing a decade ago and gave up soon after, resorting to careless jumbles of objects in box after box and between carefully wrapped and sorted boxes; clearly they had the intention of going somewhere and it was these boxes that Cassy always had more of an interest in. They usually had the most obscure and questionable items within. Although, Cassy was always careful to handle everything with thick gloves covering her hands. The summer heat made it almost unbearable, but after watching Mundungus Fletcher almost dragged backwards into a stuff cupboard by a long, thin tentacle, bruising and swelling his exposed leg, the Weasley children had ceased their jokes about it and had scavenged their own pairs too.

Cassy pushed the box of hissing goblets further under the table in favour of sorting through old, unfinished portraits that had been stuffed behind a lavish, if sun-bleached, sofa. She turned, her hand resting on the half dropped face of a particularly mean-spirited man, it was easy to tell what he would have said to her if he had ever been completed and she was very relieved he had not been, given he seemed to be holding a sketched severed head of some kind of beast.

Mrs Weasley looked down at her from the doorway and smiled.

'Cassy, dear, can you go and fetch Fred and George to get their coats from the kitchen? It's almost lunch and they're in the way. I would do it myself, but there is a particularly nasty doxy nest in one of the bedrooms, Ron was bitten last night all over his toes! Anyway, please tell them to retrieve their things manually. They need to stop trying to fix all their problems with magic,' she said, her voice growing increasingly exasperated at the end.

'Of course, Mrs Weasley,' said Cassy, dusting off her gloves.

'Thank-you, dear,' she said brightly and bustled back down the hall.

Throwing her gloves down on top of the busy table, that grunted and stomped its bowed, carved legs in protest, Cassy ambled from the room. Thuds and clanks had sounded overhead not long ago and so it was inevitable the twins were in their room, as far away from cleaning as possible without their mother catching them.

There was a faint scratching from within. Immediately, it was silenced as Cassy's loud knock echoed down the empty hall. She knocked again, before twisting the handle and pushing forcefully against the door. There was no lock on their door, Sirius had been unable to find the key, and hoards of collected Black Family memorabilia clattered noisily across the wooden floor as she knocked down their makeshift barrier. With one hand on her hip and the other leaning on the door, Cassy surveyed the mess; cauldrons out, boxes and bottles littered the floor, and the air held a faint medicinal smell.

Fred stared up at Cassy from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, but she was looking past him towards George. He was lying on the floor, an abundance of blankets beneath him and a pillow under his head. It looked as though he was peacefully sleeping.

'I knew siblings could only happily exist for so long, you forced it and you finally killed your twin,' said Cassy, skimming her eyes over the notepad in Fred's hands. She took a seat on the bed behind him, idly searching George for abnormalities.

'Not quite, but he seems to have caught something from handling one of those tapestries, a nasty headache,' said Fred. He hand slipped slowly down to his side and he tucked the notebook beneath him.

'And how does lying on the hard floor help that?' she asked.

'Er – I'm not sure. We found it out when we were kids, George always used to get migraines, you see. It is one of those things,' shrugged Fred. He stared at her and Cassy stared back, her eyes half-lidded.

'If he caught anything from this house,' said Cassy after a pause, 'I should inform your mother. He will probably die.'

'No, no,' he said quickly.

'Oh, yes, I think I best get your mother from downstairs,' said Cassy, standing.

'He's fine!'

'Anyone who sleeps willingly on the floor is not fine,' said Cassy resolutely. 'He must be dying.'

Fred leapt to his feet and hauled her back towards the bed. He dropped her sitting on there and hovered in front of her, his face close to hers and his hands clamped tightly on her shoulders. Quietly, he spoke, his face strangely serious, but Cassy stared up with a face of shock.

'Look, we're testing some products that we want to sell. They're called "Fainting Fancies" - at least, that's what we were thinking of. We were going to include them in the Skiving Snackboxes we are designing, courtesy of your suggestion last year,' he explained.

Cassy's face slipped from shocked to utterly pleased. A large grin spread across her face and Fred stared indignantly for a moment before snorting.

'You were never going to tell mum were you?' he said, slumping back down to collect his notepad from the floor.

'I was,' she said casually. 'I was also going to keep mentioning things to her until the pair of you crumbled and told me what you were planning. Although, it was not difficult to assume it was for your joke shop.'

Fred turned to her in surprise. The amused expression he had worn at her explanation fell.

'How do you know about that?' he asked quickly.

'Harry mentioned to me that he gave you his Triwizard Tournament winnings,' she said.

'Does anyone else know?'

'Not to my knowledge.'

'Good,' said Fred with a large exhale. 'It will ruin the surprise and if it ever got out to mum...'

Cassy laughed. She peered back down at George, who had not moved an inch during all of their conversation.

'Should he still be on the ground?' she questioned curiously.

'Er – well, the cancellation sweet we had designed wasn't quite powerful enough to bring him back round, but I can't give him another one because some of the stuff in the prototype is not good for people in large quantities. He'll wake up soon though, the dose wasn't that high, we didn't want to end up killing the first years,' he said, scratching the back of his head.

With raised eyebrows, Cassy exited the room after telling him of his mother's message. As soon as she was out the door, there was a pop that let her know he had apparated down to the kitchen against his mother's wishes, but as Cassy could hear her muffled complaints down the hall as she went to return to what would be Ginny's room, she knew Mrs Weasley would never know.

The room was not the largest, but it only made it more difficult to clean. There was barely any room to manoeuvre and although a pathway had been cleared to the bed, neither Mr nor Mrs Weasley had been comfortable with allowing Ginny to sleep somewhere so crowded and in a room with many possible inhabitants. The previous night had been spent sharing Cassy's room and although Cassy had sent Kitsy to help clean, he had spent more time bickering with Kreacher than anything else.

'Stupid house-elf, unworthy of the Black family, of cleaning the Mistress' boots,' grumbled Kreacher as he dragged a blanket piled with items from the room Cassy had been about to enter. Without taking a step close, she could hear the low growl of Kitsy.

'How can Kreacher say Kitsy is not worthy, when Kitsy has also served the Black family his entire life? Kreacher was never kind to Kitsy, not even when Kitsy was only up to his mother's elbow. Uncle Kreacher never liked his nephews much,' he grumbled, making sure to slam items into the bin bags more violently than before.

'Ignore him, Kitsy,' said Cassy calmly. 'Kreacher is unwell.'

'Oh, no, Mistress. Kreacher has been mad ever since Kitsy's mother got her head mounted on the wall before he did!' said Kitsy firmly, shaking his head.

Cassy did not entirely understand house-elf relations, or sometimes hardly that of her own family, so she declined to comment further. Softly, she heard Ron mutter 'they're all bloody deranged' as he passed with a spray-bottle in hand, which she ignored in favour of eyeing his hair critically.

'I see you got the slime of of your hair then?' she commented.

'Yeah, it wasn't too bad. It only took about three washes, but Ginny's having much more trouble. She's still in the bathroom. Damn spitting plants,' he said with a sigh. His hand had automatically reached for his hair and it lingered there long after he had finished speaking. His eyes darted around the hall, his lips slowly inward as he licked them.

'Hey, Cassy,' he said slowly.

'Yes?' she prompted.

'Do you... nevermind.' He shrugged and turned to move away.

'Do I what?' she said with a frown.

He turned back to her with a matching one of his own and his voice dropped, 'Do you ever wonder if You-Know-Who is really back?'

Cassy stared for a moment. 'You doubt Harry? You think he would have made something like that up?'

'No, no,' he exclaimed, holding his hands up in surrender. 'I never meant that! I just mean that, well, with how it happened – no witnesses and during a Tournament where he wasn't supposed to be in it anyway... don't you sometimes think people are going to doubt him? The papers are writing things about how he's a raving lunatic and how Dumbledore has lost touch... and that's all people have to go on, the word of Dumbledore. I know that if Dumbledore is making a move then it has to be true and Harry's faced You-Know-Who before and saved my sister, so I don't think he is lying at all, but... some people will.'

Cassy considered him for a time. What he had said was very true and she had thought it herself. There was no reason for the world to trust the words of a teenage boy, one who had been reported to have entered himself into a dangerous tournament. He might have brought back a body, but it was one from the centre of a deadly stunt, made to test the capabilities of those who entered; everyone knew it had death plastered all across it. Cedric Diggory could have died in many ways and Harry could easily have been so shocked by what he saw that he mistakenly thought whatever creature had been lurking in the darkest corner of the maze had been Voldemort, the man who haunted the supposed dreams of his parents in Rita Skeeter's less than flattering articles. No one had reason to believe him and many would not want to try to find one. Peace was favourable to war and many of those who had lived it the first time would not be eager to think it again returning.

'I find it undeniable that Voldemort has returned,' she ignored his flinch and continued in a placid expression. 'After the Philosopher's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets, I cannot deny that it is possible for him to rise again. Once dead, a man should remain so, not living like a parasite from another man's head, or as a physical manifestation of teenage memories, draining the life from others. He is holding on somehow and I do not need Harry to convince me he has returned.

'It will mean a lot for Harry if you support him. He all ready fears that he is not being taken seriously with the secrecy of this Order. Please try not to express doubt to him. I fear he will not take it well.'

Ron slowly nodded and pursed his lips.

'I believe him and so does Dean, but I was writing to Seamus over the holiday and he doesn't at all. It's his mum telling him he isn't back. We all believe him, but not Percy – he left when we started to be watched. Fudge offered him a promotion to work as his personal assistant,' he said sullenly.

Cassy was only mildly surprised. She had expected the Weasleys to be closer than that.

There was an angry hiss from behind her. Ginny had exited the bathroom, her wet hair tied in a tight bun on the back of her head.

'Dad said it was to spy on the family, that was the only reason he had been promoted,' she growled.

'Percy said that was a load of rubbish. He blamed Dad for the family being... a little hard up sometimes. He said he should have tried to progress, but he got himself stuck where he is,' continued Ron.

'Which is a load of rubbish, Dad just loves muggles,' said Ginny, scowling.

'Percy packed his bags and hasn't come back since. We haven't heard anything off him. He doesn't want to associate with people who allied themselves with Dumbledore,' finished Ron quietly. 'Mum's distraught, so we don't mention him if we can help it.'

'I just assumed he was working,' said Cassy. She looked between the two scowling red-heads and then back down the hall where she knew Mrs Weasley was cleaning. There was still a quiet banging and the sharp hiss of disinfectant that signalled she had not heard a word of what they had said.

As Cassy gazed down the hall thoughtfully, Ginny had had a concern of her own.

'Have you heard of anything while you have been here?' she asked, her voice hushed.

'Probably not much more than you did last night,' said Cassy honestly. 'There was only one formal meeting since I have been here, although people drop in frequently. My father mentioned the meeting intended for today has been moved to tomorrow. Apparently, the Headmaster had some important meeting to attend at the Ministry today and he was unsure when he would return.'

'So we have to wait another day for information then,' said Ron morosely. 'I'm dying to know what's going on. Mum and Dad won't give a knut away -'

'And with good reason!' came Mrs Weasley's shrill voice from behind. Everyone turned and she stood with her hands on her hips. 'You have no business knowing, you are too young and you three should be cleaning, not standing here chatting about things beyond your years.'

Cassy flatly thought she would cope very fine actually, but she just turned away and went back into the bedroom she had been attempted to clean half-an-hour earlier. There was little desire within her to argue with Mrs Weasley. It would achieve nothing and Cassy was all ready intending to reply on her father for information. Grumbling, Ron and Ginny followed her in. Although Ron was supposed to be helping his mother in his room, she did not seem to care where he ended up, so long as he was cleaning something somewhere. They listened to her shuffle back into the other room.

'See? She's not going to let us know anything at all, unless we find out for ourselves,' said Ginny, shifting to dislodge the large pile of papers on the table.

There was a pop from the corner of the room.

'I see George has recovered from his headache,' said Cassy conversationally, not looking up from the box she was rummaging through.

'Much better,' replied Fred. 'Anyway, we couldn't help overhearing that delightful conversation you three had with our mother.'

'We think we might have a solution to the information issue,' added George, grinning widely.

'But we have a slight issue: Mum expects us to have made a good start on one of the rooms upstairs and quite honestly, we haven't touched it,' said Fred.

'So, we propose that we will share our eavesdropping technique with you - ' began George.

'If you three make a start on the room upstairs so we have time to make them,' finished Fred.

Ron frowned, his nose crinkling as he said, 'I don't see why we should do your chores because you've goofed off all morning.'

'Then, little brother, you will miss out on the meeting tomorrow and we shall tell you nothing,' said George cheerfully.

'How much of a start is a start?' asked Cassy, folding her arms across her chest. While she could rely on her father, she needed to know what he was telling her was true and it was ample. For all she knew, he could be attempting to pacify her with small bits off unimportant information. Besides, Cassy had always liked doing her own dirty work.

'Just enough to make it look like we've tried,' said George.

'Move stuff around, shove it all into bags and put it in the hall, whatever you like, just make it look like we actually went in there,' shrugged Fred. 'We're not fussy.'

Cassy, Ginny, and Ron all looked between one another and then nodded. Cassy and Ginny agreed to help Ron upstairs once they were done in Ginny's potential room, as it was slightly more pressing and Mrs Weasley would be far less impressed with the two of them failing to complete that than she would be surprised that Fred and George had not done their chores. They had cleared the second nest of beetles, ones large enough to fill a jam jar, when Ginny struck up an unexpected conversation.

'Michael Conner asked me out,' she said suddenly.

Cassy looked up in surprise. She had forgot about Ginny's date with Conner, filing it away under unimportant information in light of everything else that had happened last year. Still, she smiled at her.

'When did that happen then?' she asked.

'The end of last year, just before the holidays began,' replied Ginny cheerfully.

'You left that a while to inform me,' said Cassy playfully, but Ginny winced slightly.

'Well, just with everything else that happened, I didn't want to seem like I was bragging. Not when everyone had gone through something so terrible that year, but me.' Ginny frowned down at the sheets in her hands.

'Sometimes it is nice to hear happy news,' said Cassy placidly. Internally, she was quite thrilled for her friend and found herself smiling at her with no ulterior motive than simply being pleased for her.

The spoke about it for a while, until Sirius called up the stairs for lunch. They entered the kitchen before anyone else, watching Mrs Weasley and Sirius grimace and sneer at one another behind the other's back.

'That sounds wonderful, Molly,' said Sirius, too jovially to appear even remotely genuine.

'Well, I thought it might liven up the place a bit if we can get the Drawing Room cleared we can sit and have nice gatherings in there, a bit of natural light,' she said back, not acknowledging his plain distaste at having to enter the Drawing Room.

The radio continued to sound in the background of the meal, despite Mrs Weasley's request to have it turned off. There was rarely a time it did not play nowadays. Since Cassy had first put it in the kitchen, she had not had the heart to take it back. Her father was always beside it, listening in to the news and humming to the songs that were played repeatedly through the day. She thought it might make him feel connected to the outside world, no longer relying on strangers strolling through his front door to inform him of any possible attacks. He was always listening carefully, even to the most mundane of things.

Mundungus Fletcher joined them briefly for lunch. He spoke merrily to Fred, George and Ron, once Cassy thought to introduce everyone to him; Mrs Weasley did not seem like she appreciated it very much. Fletcher made a questionable living from petty crimes, but he knew his way around London and he was good at finding information simply because of how unassuming her was and the amalgamation of social groups that formed beneath the law. He was useful, although not wholly reliable, often appearing later than wanted and with various stolen good to deposit in the house to add to the mess. Sirius quite enjoyed his stories though and the boys were roaring with laughter over lunch, before he excused himself to exchange for the watch.

What Cassy had appreciated most in the time she had spent with her father before the Weasleys came to stay, was his complete lack of motivation to make her clean any more than he was. With his enthusiasm for the house so low as it was, he had no drive to uproot old memories and Cassy had never been ushered from one room to another with a duster in hand if she had not wanted to be.

As it was, Mrs Weasley was quite determined to keep them busy. From lunch through to dinner, the teens were to clean. Cassy loathed it silently, spending more time rummaging than actually clearing and allowing her house-elves to follow around after her, complaining and scolding her for having stuck her hands in such dirty boxes at all. She had never seen Ron quite so happy when she entered the room her was cleaning for Fred and George with them trailing in behind Ginny.

It was only after dinner that they were allowed to retreat to their own devices. Cassy had ushered everyone into her room, handing Ron the mirror. He stared blankly at it for a moment, until Harry's face appeared instead of his own.

'Oh, bloody hell. This is good, isn't it?' exclaimed Ron in shock.

Harry was soon enticed into a lengthy conversation with the Weasleys. As they had not heard all of his stories before, he was able to complain about the Dursleys and his glum summer all over again. Fred and George offered to send him some things to sort out his cousin and while Harry declined, Cassy could almost envision the large grin on his face as he did from where she sat at her desk.

Everyone took turns explaining again and again how slow and terrible it was, how they had known of nothing and were still being kept in the dark. Cassy was confident it would do something to ease his bitter mood, although in the back of her mind she could still hear him complaining about being alone and there was nothing she could do to fix that beyond urge the Order of the Phoenix to take him in. After her tantrum yesterday, she did not think Professor Dumbledore would be particularly open to negotiate with her.

At the end of the long conversation, everyone turned to Cassy, marvelling and wondering were the two-way mirrors came from. She grinned mischievously for a moment, then looked between them seriously. They could not tell anyone of the mirror, she stressed, it was her only way to communicate freely with Harry. If anyone found out they might take it from her to prevent the passing of information, or worse, assume it might fall into the wrong hands and thus was a danger. Everyone nodded quickly and quickly agreed to secrecy, on the condition they could use it when they pleased.

Cassy hummed non-comitantly.

* * *

The following day passed much the same. Time was wrapped up in mindless cleaning, which seemed to make little to no difference and by the end of the day Cassy was certain, as she looked around the room she had spent the day confined in, that their efforts had simply made more of a mess.

Cassy had spent as much time as she could looting rooms of their old photographs, although Wulburga seemed to be lacking in the sentiment. Some of them she had seen before in her great aunt Cassiopeia's house following her death. She kept slipping them into her pocket, or back into her room when no one was watching her, much in the same way she caught Fred and George stashing beetle shells and spider eggs away when their mother was facing the other way.

Dinner had almost arrived when the portrait of the deceased matron began to scream, she cursed and wailed, eventually giving way to the curtains hurriedly drawn across her frame. Tonks winked up at Cassy as she entered; Moody nodded to her; Kingsley appraised the students in turn; Professor Dumbledore smiled up at them, and a whole bundle of strangers tumbled in after them. Amongst the rabble, the very last to arrive, was Mrs Longbottom and Neville.

Neville beamed when he saw them, bidding his grandmother farewell and racing up to the landing to greet everyone in turn. Cassy was quickly squashed against him and Ginny had her turn next, returning the hug just as forcefully. Ron clapped his shoulder and the twins nodded. Then, Neville suddenly frowned.

'Is Harry not here?' he asked.

'They're keeping him locked up with his relatives' answered Ginny.

Neville frowned deep and cast a knowing glance at Cassy, who merely tensed her eyes. He caught the gesture, his expression growing grimmer. Neville was no more fond of Harry's relatives than she was.

Everyone allowed Mrs Weasley to usher them down the hall. As soon as she descended to the kitchen, they were all at the railings of the stairs again. Hurriedly, Fred and George extracted long, fleshy coils of tube from their pocket, holding one out for Cassy, who took it gingerly, before scampering up to their own landing above. They did not give a reason, but Cassy thought it might be that if anyone happened to emerge, they would be out of sight long before the four on the floor below.

Reluctantly, Cassy placed the tube near her ear and Neville, Ginny, and Ron battled for the best position to listen in too. Heads clacked together and Cassy waved her hand impatiently as sound began to channel up the tube.

' - A few people who are keeping tabs on the lower Auror members. I am certain I know who they are, but they seem unaware of me. I have found no one tailing me like the others,' came Kingsley's deep voice.

'There seems to be no signs of active recruitment though,' said Tonks lightly. 'No one being tailed has been approached from what I know and the person following me to and from work on odd days has never approached me. Occasionally, I have to pretend to be Cassy and leave the house like that. It stops him following me and prevents the Ministry from realising she isn't there.'

Cassy quirked an eyebrow at the idea of Tonks gallivanting around London as herself.

'We have been trying to test who would be good to try and persuade, but it is difficult with Tonks being followed as she is. We think we have a few though.'

'It's more important that you two stay hidden than recruiting members right now,' said Moody in a gruff voice. 'It'll be much harder to keep an eye on things if we lose two of our eyes. How are things on your end, Arthur?'

'Reasonably. I am still under observation most of the time, but a lot of the people in the office seem to take no notice of it. If they do, they seem annoyed by the Ministry, so they're doing us a favour,' stated Mr Weasley, sounding quite pleased.

'It's not going to be easy in the Ministry at the moment for anyone, especially not to gather new members. Fudge is terrified and on high alert. The search for you, Sirius, has been increased you know. I am on new orders to track you down by any means and no longer on friendly terms,' said Kingsley seriously. 'The measures we have been issues as means to bring you are not negotiable either.'

'Oh? So, the time of wanting me to have a trial are over then?' asked Sirius, not sounding at all surprised. 'I suppose it is because he wants to show he is still racking in the criminals, despite what is said to be going on.'

'That's terrible,' came a witches voice Cassy did not recognise. 'He knows you're innocent, he saw the entire thing!'

'Yes, but the rest of the country doesn't know that, do they? People will surely back Fudge if he is seen to be dealing with such a problem,' said Sirius bitterly.

Cassy scowled at the news. She was not surprised though. After Fudge had failed to offer her father a better deal than a cell in Azkaban as he talked in Professor Dumbledore's office on the night of the revelation, Cassy had not faith in the man to have any fairness over his own popularity. He could have gone to the press, for the word of respected teachers and the Minister of Magic would surely be enough to ensure fair treatment to see Sirius to trial. Fudge had no sense beyond his own preservation.

'I have told him you might be in Tibet,' said Kingsley.

'At least I have managed to convince a new bank worker of the cause. I believe Dumbledore all ready knows her, her name is Fluer Delacour,' chimed Bill.

'Delacour?' mouthed Cassy.

Ron nodded faintly, his eyes all ready becoming misty, while Ginny screwed up her nose.

'The two have been talking a lot. She is _improoving 'er Eenglish_,' muttered Ginny.

'She seems interested, especially after being a Champion herself. She says there is no way that Cedric died and Harry lied about it. She is quite fond of Harry,' continued Bill.

I bet she is, thought Cassy, Harry offered to fight off a hoard of merpeople to rescue her sister last year. It was the sort of offer than instantly made someone popular; in this case, it was not a bad thing. They needed all the help they could get and if the Triwizard Cup had chosen Fluer Delacour as the most worthy Beauxbatons student, then she must have some brain and skill behind her.

The meeting devolved into theoretical murmurings after that. There was a few cases of the known Death Eaters acting perfectly ordinarily, occasionally stepping out unexpectedly, but always returning shortly after with no sign of nervousness or anger. There was nothing to suggest they had been meeting and none of the times of these disappearances matches enough to think that they had.

Their voices faded out and there was the low scraping back of a seat. Professor Dumbledore's voice rang out through the kitchen, thanking them all for coming and dismissing the meeting at last.

Quickly, the fleshy tubes were wretched upwards. Everyone hurried down the landings. Cassy, Neville, Ginny, and Ron stuffed into her room and the tube was thrown under the bed. They took up seats around, launching into a conversation quickly as the door opened and Mrs Weasley popped her smiling head inside.

'Dinner will only be in a minute now, so come down down,' she said. She ducked back out of the room and presumably to inform Fred and George.

'This room is nice,' praised Neville, inspecting it thoroughly.

'It is mine,' said Cassy redundantly as she stood. She looked at Ginny. 'Those inventions of your brothers feel like I was squeezing someone's earlobe.'

'They are great, whatever they are,' said Ginny with a grin.

At the table, sat Sirius, Remus, Mr Weasley, Moody, Kingsley, and Tonks with drinks in their hands and cutlery set in front of them. Many plates were lined across the kitchen counter and Mrs Weasley was all ready busy beginning to dish out the dozens of pots and pans of food onto each.

Tonks waved Cassy over into the spare seat beside her. On her other side was Remus and beside him was Sirius. More importantly, opposite her was Moody. Getting straight to the point, Cassy levelled her eyes with his.

'Moody, do you mind if I ask you some questions about something I read?' she said conversationally.

'Go ahead,' he said with genuine interest.

Folding her arms on the table top, she asked, 'I was reading about spells that do not produce a visible force, such as the Cruciatus, or Imperious curses. With them and others, is there a way to block or detect when they are coming? When done in conjunction with non-verbal incantations, it would be impossible until they have struck.'

Moody was leaning forward across the table after her first sentence, listening intently as Mrs Weasley chocked on her tea off to the side of the room. Sirius and Tonks also appeared to have a great interest in the answer, while Remus muttered something criticising what types of books she had been allowed to read, but also turned to listen.

'Well,' said Moody severely, his hands moving as he spoke, 'the best you can hope for is to keep moving. If you move, then you are a lot more difficult to hit. Some have tell tale signs once you have been hit, like the infamous Black Ice curse, named so because you can't see it in action. It will make your skin burn so intensely that it can be nothing else. Then, you should burn your own flesh to prevent it spreading - '

'That is quite enough over dinner! No one is burning their anything off,' interjected Mrs Weasley sharply.

'It's important she knows if she wants to stay alive,' responded Moody. 'It is great that she is so interested. This one is likely to live!'

Despite the disappointment Cassy felt at having the conversation cut short as Mrs Weasley and Bill set the dishes on the table, she fell quiet. Small pockets of conversation broke out on every side and it was then, when her father and Remus appeared to be bickering about something, that Cassy renewed her questioning. As the conversation progressed, the tone got darker and considerably more violent as Kingsley joined in with his own experiences as an Auror and Tonks, Remus, and Sirius told their own war stories. As it progressed closer to death each time as they each subconsciously tried to outdo one another with their tales, dinner was forgotten.

Moody produced the best ones. He explained how he lost a chunk from his nose, explained of deep blackened scars on his back, stretching from his shoulder-blades to the dip of his spine.

It was loudly announced not to be an appropriate topic for dinner. With half of the table engaged in the gruesome story sharing, it did eventually meet Mrs Weasley's ears and even Mr Weasley agreed with her that it should be something for another time.

'Or never,' muttered Mrs Weasley under her breath as she cleaned up the dishes and attempted to send the five children to their rooms to settle before bed in a few hours. Naturally, they piled back into Cassy's room until they were evicted at ten. They talked to Harry once more and discussed the little they had heard at the meeting with him. He wanted to know why the need for Sirius' hunt was present at all, indignant that Fudge would continue it when he knew he was innocent.

'Fudge has to appear to be trying to clear the streets,' said Cassy, far out of his line of vision as she sat at her desk as the Weasley children were all piled on her bed. 'Furthermore, he needs to capture him to give him this supposed trial he deserves.'

'He just wants to throw him in Azkaban to bolster his own publicity again,' Harry had replied grimly.

Cassy thought he was quite right, but it was a dangerous line of thought to go along right then. The last thing she needed was him to become too concerned with his Godfather's well-being; it would only serve to make him more stir-crazy than he all ready was, anxious enough to be involved that he had admitted considered simply catching the train and forcing someone to drag him back to his relatives house. At least then, he had said, someone would have to admit they were near and probably bring him to her if he threatened to do it again. While she had warned him sternly against it, Cassy could not help but think it sounded like something she would do; the two of them had dangerously similar veins of thought on occasion.

When everyone had retired to their own rooms, Cassy found the house to be uncomfortably quiet. Silence had always been a relief to her, never too fond of crowds or socialising beyond the initial purpose. Her friends were elite and few in number, the closest of whom she nearly always enjoyed the company of – excluding the select few moments her mind would begin to ache, or her anger to flare. As it was, there was a slight emptiness. The solitude she craved all summer had given way to the bizarre desire for company. Her own thoughts echoed dismally in the silence, only accompanied by the slow ticking of the clock fastened high above the fireplace.

Restlessly, she rose from her bed. A thin dressing gown was wrapped around her as her feet tucked into the slippers that sat neatly at her beside table each night. A long candlestick was plucked from beside her, lit with the strike of a match before she even considered leaving her bedroom. Cassy remembered her first evening in the house of her ancestors and she had little desire to wander blindly through the shrinking mounds of rubbish that lined the halls again, lest she bump into something more sinister than Kreacher; something that was creating the low scratching through the wall cavities perhaps.

The hall was empty. A faint snore sounded from the room opposite where Ron slept, but there was no crinkle or clinking of bags and cutlery; there was no sound of Kreacher rummaging late at night as usual. Cassy assumed he must be upstairs or down in the kitchen, tucked into his tiny cupboard where he slept on the rare occasion he was not scavenging.

Portraits muttered to themselves as she crept along the landing and down the stairs. Her grandmother's portrait was silent, yet surely only dormant, waiting for the slightest sound to set off her caterwaul screams once more.

If Kreacher was in his cupboard, Cassy saw no sign of him. She partly wanted to poke her head in and take a look at the family treasures he had surely hoarded, but she did not think the Weasley's would be nearly as understanding of her wanderings as he father had been. He did not emerge as she boiled the kettle and made herself a mug of hot chocolate. Spiders rose to join her though, crawling slowly across the yellowed walls, emerging from beneath the cabinets at the promise of not being squashed between a dozen feet for the first time in hours.

Cassy climbed back up the stairs with her candle and cocoa. At the top, she paused, turning her head to the opposite side of the staircase, the part that lead away from her room and towards the singular door that had always been closed.

It was unlocked. She slipped into the large room, larger by far than any other she had seen in the house. A grand fireplace sat against the farthest internal wall, flanked by two towering glass door cabinets. Bottles glistened in the faint candlelight, her tiny flame was scarcely enough to illuminate the barest of shapes and mounds of the decorative furniture. Cassy wandered forward carefully, passing the items on the ground with as little disruption as possible. There was a shattering moan from within the dark bureau in the corner, not unlike the groan of the cabinet Professor Lupin had carted into his classroom two years prior. Other life seemed to be breeding within the curtains, their movements giving the fabric a life of its own and the promise of vicious trouble if she was to step too near.

The cabinet held what appeared to be various snake skins and glass bottles of deep red – blood, she concluded, morbidly unsurprised. There was little boxes and figurines too, yet the flame reflecting on the glass made them difficult to discern entirely and Cassy forced herself to move away as one of the tiny silver heads turned to look at her.

The candle and mug were placed on the low table between the two ornate sofas. She doubled back around to the right wall, ripping open the least crawling curtain. A dozen Doxys scattered into the air, shrieking as they beat their thin wings and shook their extra limbs in protest as they sought cover in the other dark corners of the room. A great yellowed light shone in from the street. The lamppost on the other side of the road breathed an artificial light inside as it did for Cassy's room next door. The moon shone down in the clear night sky, casting great crossed shadows across the bare floors and up and onto the tapestry behind.

The entire wall opposite was covered in a dark green fabric. Names were littered from the ceiling to a foot from the floor. Little embroideries were made, connecting the lines of relations and descent through the whole of their traceable seven centuries. Oddly, or not as Cassy soon decided, there was burn marks littered through the names. She followed the names of Pollux and Cassiopeia over to the burn beside them. Marius had surely been there at one point, their brother the men of the Black family had struggled to identify in Cassiopeia's photographs after her death years ago.

Beside Marius' name was 'Dorea Black' and a thin line leading to 'Charlus Potter'. Cassy stared in only mild surprise. It was no secret that the Potter family had been well respected, so surely their paths had crossed at some point. The line beneath announced they had had one son together before Dorea's early death in 1977. She wondered what relation that made them to Harry, how closely they were related to him and if perhaps they had been the aunt and uncle to his father, cousins, or further relations, unknown to James at all in anything but name.

She traced the tree down again. Between Wulburga and Cygnus was a burnt patch where 'Alphard' should have been written. Alphard had always admitted that he and his sister did not always see eye to eye, that she had cursed him in anger more than once, but they still spoke until her death. Cassy's fingers lingered on the mark.

Down from him was Regulus and yet another burn. Surely where her father had once been.

'You do not sleep much, do you?'

Cassy jumped in surprise. Her head shot towards the doorway and her hand fell from the tapestry.

Crossing the gloomy room to her was her father. Sirius was still dressed in his day clothes, his hair unruffled by any effort to fall asleep.

'Most teenagers struggle to wake and you are always up. It's not natural,' he said, looking down at her with no attention to the tapestry.

'I am not tired. It is only twelve,' she said plainly.

'Half twelve,' he responded pedantically. 'Well, at least that's normal, although I think Molly will have something to say if she caught you wandering so late. She keeps her children on a tight schedule.'

'What she does not know will not hurt her,' said Cassy. She looked back at the tapestry, allowing her eyes to drift no farther down than Sirius' name. She knew she would not be on there, there would be no point even looking. To the side, she spotted Draco and Narcissa and she briefly wondered if her father would mind if she sliced their names off in a spiteful bout of rage.

'I was never allowed in here as a child,' she admitted quietly. 'I was to sit in the kitchen on the odd occasion I was left here when Alphard had work.'

'I still cannot believe he thought that was a good idea at all. I would not have let you within fifty-foot of my mother,' said Sirius. His hand slowly rose to the spot where Alphard's name should have been, much like Cassy had down moments earlier. 'He was the only one in the family I ever really liked, beside Andromeda, of course. He joked and rarely got angry, not like my parents. He had the time for me that they did not and he would always listen to my ideas, even though they were so stupid back then. You can't understand the relief I felt knowing you had been taken in by him. I worried all the time, you know, I worried that my stupid temper had landed you with my mother, or in a home... although that would be the kinder of the two.

'I had hoped that I could meet him again one day, that I could thank him, but... that depended if I was ever going to be cleared and with the way Fudge is trying to reel me in, I doubt he will allow that to happen.'

Cassy could think of nothing reasonable to respond to that. There was a pinch of relief within a barrel of guilt inside of her. Her childhood had been spent assuming this man beside her cared nothing for her, that he had thought nothing of it when she had been born - the whispers of her insecurities of not having a father growing up – that he had left her to alone while he mindlessly killed thirteen people – the echo of the other children's taunts that he did not want her ringing loudly as she aged. She was the bastard child, the half-blood carelessly born and unwanted, kept only because her mother was mad and it was his duty by law.

Yet it was not that. She had seen him concerned over the past two years, but it was something else to hear him say it.

Before she could smiled with uncharacteristic warmth, Cassy pointed to the Potters on the wall.

'Who are they?' she asked.

Sirius looked with renewed attention. 'As far as I am aware, they were James' aunt and uncle. Charlus Potter was James' dad's younger brother, by quite a bit, I think. I never met them, but James mentioned them once or twice. James' parent's were old and had him in old age even for wizarding standards, but they died around the same time as Dorea here, the same year James and Lily got married actually, before they even knew Harry was going to be born. There was nothing sinister about their deaths, they were just older, but it tore James apart.'

There was something about the shine of Sirius' eyes that made Cassy step away. She told him to wait there as she strode quickly from the room. It had not been on her agenda to do what she was about to, but the ghosts in his eyes, the familiar warmth and simultaneous chill made her reach for her bedside draw.

When she returned, Sirius was sitting on one of the uncomfortable sofas, looking quite bemused. Cassy moved to sit beside him and held out a small stack of photographs. Gingerly, he took them, halting almost immediately as he caught sight of the one on top.

'Where did you get these?' he breathed.

'From the loft at Alphard's,' she said quietly. She waited for a sign that he was pleased, but he sat in silence, a hand raised to cover his mouth.

For a time he sat, staring at the smiling faces of the two young children, before flicking through the rest of the stack. Once the photograph was back on top, he smiled lopsidedly.

'Did you know, this was the second time you and Harry ever met?' he asked and Cassy silently shook her head. 'I first took you to see when after everything was settled and I got custody, it took a couple of months, but Lily was really excited to meet you. She said you were incredibly clever for your age, not that you ever listened to what I said. Harry liked you immediately too. He sent you running straight into my legs when you arrived, charging at you from the kitchen. You were not so happy about it, but he was only trying to say hello. He could not speak that well, it was a bit before his first birthday.' Sirius' eyes had become very bright. 'You two eventually made peace after he tried to take your cracker you had hid with your stuffed bear. You gave him one from my pocket – you had a tendency to hide everything and move it to where you wanted. It would drive me crazy because I would never hear you do it, you were so quiet all the time. I thought there might be something wrong, but that was just the way you were. You were just a bit picky on what you wanted to talk about.'

Cassy smiled at him when he turned to her, a sort of half-grin pulling at his tired face, making it brighter, more youthful in an instant, yet somehow his eyes were older.

'Anyway, this is from Harry's first birthday. It was the last time I got to see him before they moved house. The Secret Keeper had to be changed because I knew Voldemort suspected me. It was just us, James, Lily, and Harry. He always wanted to go where you did and you kept looking at me with a frown, as if asking who this boy thought he was following you around! He gave you that Snitch and James was so excited. He said Harry would certainly be a seeker, he cheered so loudly at the prospect. He would be proud, so, so, proud.' His hand reached up to cover his eyes. 'There is not a single day I let myself forget that memory. It was supposed to be the start of something great, the wonderful beginning to the rest of our lives, but it was the last time I ever saw them alive.'

There was a sniff and Cassy thought for a second that he might have begun crying, but the hand moved from his eyes and although his eyes shimmered, he was smiling.

'I know I am not Alphard. I can never be what he was. It is far too late for that, but I... I never expected to be a good father, I did not have a clue what to do, my own parents being hardly parents at all. I would always panic when you vanished and you did that a lot, even though we lived in an apartment. You usually had climbed in something, or overturned something and crawled beneath that. Yet, I always found you happy and healthy, if somewhat annoyed I had disturbed you. James once suggested I buy you a lead.'

Cassy laughed quietly and Sirius huffed one of his own.

'In my room, I have a photograph of Alphard and you when you must have been about my age. Do you mind if I keep that one?' she asked.

'Go ahead,' he said. His eyes were still fixated on the photograph in front of him. 'I miss him too, Alphard, I mean. He was the closest thing I had to a father figure until I was fifteen and my world opened up. He taught me a lot.'

Cassy's smile became pinched, forced as she wanted to frown at the memory of him. Instead, she sat in silence for a while, observing her father rake his eyes over each and every detail of the following photos, the ones of Lily and James, of him and Remus, the final one of all of the Marauders together by the lake. Finally, she stood and bid him goodnight. If it was not for the mumbled reply, she would have thought he had not heard her.

* * *

**I hope everyone had a good holiday. I have a ton of work to do, so my updating is remaining a little slow. I will try and pick up the pace next month, but I should post another chapter at New Year. **

**Harry will arrive soon, so we can get out of the house and onto Hogwarts!**

**I appreciate all the reviews so far. **

**Thanks!**


	6. The failure of Mundungus Fletcher

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter VI: The failure of Mundungus Fletcher**

The days that followed stretched on longer and longer with each one that passed. Following the same pathways and traipsing up and down the same staircases hour after hour had long since become tedious. The interesting and unusual trinkets and books that been uncovered were the only objects that could rouse her attention and kept her from Muggle-watching out of one of the large windows.

Most of her days were spent cleaning in the same fashion it had been for the last week. The rooms she and Ginny were assigned to take care of were easily done by the hands of Plum and Kitsy, who had begged to be allowed to aid after checking in one day to see her. They worked meticulously, eagerly cleaning up a decade of dirt with their magic, barely restraining themselves from tackling the rest of the house then and there each time they were summoned.

Neither Cassy nor Ginny had any qualms with this. They directed and watched, but mostly their attention switched to card games, chess, and talking. Mrs Weasley would praise them each time, marvelling at how well they worked. She even suggested they work with her to get the Drawing Room sorted; Cassy and Ginny ensured the rooms were left a little worse for wear each time from then on. Mrs Weasley would not support their relaxing at the hands of Cassy's very capable and enthusiastic house-elves.

It did not go amiss that Cassy received more post that anyone else. They were messages from Stephen, Astoria, Hermione, and Luna, the latter of whom knew that she was limited in her post, but wrote regardless. As infrequent as their post was, Stephen and Astoria were easily unsettled if she did not reply within a day or so. They were very similar people, Stephen more tactful by far and more careful with his enquiries, and both demanded to know what had tied her up. Stephen had been infinitely more understanding, asking after her health and well-being.

'You need to make sure you get outside and enjoy the Sun, it will make you feel much better', he would write, letting her know his desire for a response. He was filled with advice and quiet jabs that she needed to be more sociable to heal.

Astoria, on the other hand, seemed to be behaving as if Cassy had nothing to find a fault with. It was refreshing, hearing of other news instead of endless questions of her happiness, but the impatience came across in her letters quite abruptly. Even being in Slytherin for a number of years now could no curb Astoria's frankness that had pushed her to ask if Cassy knew where her father was hiding in their first proper conversation.

She received a letter over dinner one evening, reading:

_Dear Cassy,_

_This silence is driving me mad. I can only imagine how others must feel. I listen to the Muggle news everyday, just in case something peculiar appears, disguised as a gas leak or a industrial incident. There is nothing. There is nothing anywhere, although I always read from cover to cover. _

_My parents are quite well, but they are concerned. I try to act casual, yet they can tell something is wrong. I would never wish to tell them though._

_I hope you are keeping yourself well and I know I do not have to tell you to do all of your homework. Check in with Neville for me though. Remember last year how he forgot we had Transfiguration homework and he had to do it all on the first night? OWLs are coming up!_

_Hope you are well,_

_Hermione_

'Cassy, dear, you really need to watch your post,' fussed Mrs Weasley.

'It is not that people send me that many letters each, I just happen to have more people writing to me,' defended Cassy, perfectly pleasantly.

'Yes, dear, but it creates a lot of owl traffic and people might start to notice,' she said, turning away from her to ensure the dishes were indeed washing themselves.

'A bit popular, are you?' asked Tonks cheerfully, flicking a counter across the table with another and missing the bucket in the centre entirely.

'Just because she makes weird friends,' voiced Ron, flicking his own counter.

'They are not weird, I do not understand why you are all so cold towards them,' responded Cassy lowly. As far as she was aware, they only knew of Stephen and a basic, completely false, assumption that Cassy and Shandy were on good terms. If any of them learnt she had spent much of her summer writing to a Slytherin, it would not be something brushed away easily.

They would probably assume she is a Death Eater trying to extract my location, thought Cassy.

'Harry says Stephen's dodgy,' said Ron casually, as if Harry's opinion settled the matter.

Cassy frowned and said, 'Harry has never even spoken to him and I have told him repeatedly otherwise. Besides, Harry is hardly the most sociable of people. He has a very frank analysis on the new people he meets.'

Ron shrugged, clearly not caring who it was she was sending letters to. He flicked his counter into the bucket, electing a cheer from around the table.

'Who's Stephen?' asked Sirius curiously.

'My friend from Ravenclaw,' she said.

'An _older boy_,' drawled Fred and George, their voices low and wide grins spreading across their faces.

Ignoring Sirius' eyebrows rising high on his forehead, Cassy focused back on the game just in time to see Tonks' finally get her counter in the pot. As another cheer sounded through the kitchen, the door suddenly opened. Cassy looked up immediately, noting that everyone who should have been in the house was all ready present, but she relaxed again when gold slippers popped into view and a long, sparkling robe slithered into view.

'Albus!' cheered Mr Weasley, standing to make room at the table for the Headmaster.

Professor Dumbledore looked around with bright eyes, smiling at each of them in turn. Cassy ducked her head just before he set his eyes on her. She had not yet forgotten the last time they spoke, the harsh words and angry demands she had made, all of her criticisms and her doubts. Surely, he had not either.

'It is good to see everyone in good spirits for a change. Dare I say the last few visits has seen bitterness and boredom,' commented Professor Dumbledore.

'Tea, Albus?' offered Mrs Weasley.

'If you will,' he replied. 'I see the cleaning is coming along well. I can almost get through the hall now.'

'That's because there is a large, unpaid work force,' voiced Fred from the opposite end of the table.

Professor Dumbledore smiled, but Mrs Weasley let out a sharp call of 'Fred!' that sent the rest of the table into giggles.

'You seem to be in an exceptional mood today,' said Remus as Mrs Weasley set the drink down in front of Professor Dumbledore.

'Indeed I am. The Order is progressing along quite steadily now,' he said.

The game of Tiddlywinks was restarted and the pot in the centre grumbled as Ginny shook the counters free, making loud, repulsive gags, as if puking the contents up onto the table. She shook it harder as the last one rattled noisily. The pot groaned, asking to be put out of its misery before being hit off the table in a last ditch effort.

Cassy slipped away as everyone tried their hand to dislodge the counter. Silently, she retreated back upstairs to her room. In the top draw of her desk lay a scroll, rolled carefully and long in length, longer than anything Cassy had had to write. When back in the kitchen, she slipped it in front of Professor Dumbledore after a particularly good shot by Remus that had even the pot complimenting him. She could feel the Headmaster's eyes on her all the way back to her seat. Pointedly, she did not look at him, instead fiddling with a loose button on her sleeve, frowning to make it appear as if it had been bothering her for some time.

She declined to have a turn. There were boos from Fred and George as she rose, carrying her mug over to the sink. She rinsed it out with no great urgency, before flicking on the kettle. It was all ready beginning to whistle, having only been boiled minutes before in another round of drinks. With all of the attention focused on the game, she wondered if she could possibly slip upstairs and return to her room. Perhaps she would read another book she had 'misplaced' in the house during cleaning, or finally decide on another topic of study that Harry and Neville would undoubtedly scrunch their faces up to when trying to comprehend how she actually could enjoy the work.

Suddenly, she was very aware there was someone beside her.

'I would have given it an 'O',' came a deep voice. 'Of course, I should have deducted points for it being fifty-years late.'

From the side of her eyes, Cassy saw Professor Dumbledore smiling softly. She forced a half-smile back easily, looking every bit as pleased as she had wanted it to and every bit more than she really felt.

'The pain of losing loved ones eases with time, but I will not tell you it will ever fade entirely. In time, you learn to value what he has left you, not miss what he has left you without,' he said quietly, his voice barely sounding over the chatter behind.

Cassy stiffly poured the boiling water. 'I apologise for my tone last time we spoke, Professor.'

'The words you spoke were honest, I cannot fault you for being so loyal,' he said kindly.

Pursing her lips, Cassy glanced at him from the corner of her eye and said, 'You misunderstand. I was not apologising for what I said, merely how I said them. I meant everything and I still hold firm that this is not how to treat Harry if you want to help him. I merely am saying I could have worded it better.'

To her great surprise, Professor Dumbledore was smiling. He did not seem the least but affronted by her stern manners and instead seemed to find them quite satisfactory. He too reached for the kettle and poured himself a mug of tea with the excuse his had gone cold; in all of their fun he had forgotten about it, he said, but he had only been given one five minutes prior. Cassy was inwardly simultaneously impressed and mournful that he was using it as an excuse for her to keep him company at the counter, knowing full well that her manners would not allow her to sit and leave him standing alone.

'You raised that you think Harry would be better off here than with his family,' said Professor Dumbledore lightly.

'With all due respect, Professor, they are related by blood and little else. No one there has any affection for him. They are not family,' she said coolly. A long sip was drawn from her tea, barely masking the severe expression that threatened to break through her calm exterior.

'They are the only family he has and I am certain deep down, Petunia loves him as the son of her dear sister,' he said.

'Sir, I am certain I could write a six-foot long essay on why Harry should not be kept with them longer than strictly necessary – which, in my opinion, is no more than a minute – and that would be limiting it to the most pressing reasons. I could probably go on for days. It is only out of respect for Harry's wishes that I have to revealed everything to this house's occupants and seen what they make of it,' retorted Cassy.

Professor Dumbledore was taking an inordinately long time stirring the sugar into his brewing beverage.

'He does not talk of his aunt and uncle then?' he asked curiously.

'Not at all. I only know because I visited last summer and forced my way into their house.'

Professor Dumbledore looked as if he might smile again. 'I suppose, given how strongly you feel on the matter and that you truly do know Harry best, that I could arrange for him to spend the last few weeks of the summer holidays here, if he so wishes.'

Cassy felt a great sense of relief and triumph wash over her all at once. She had done the supposedly impossible and change the great Albus Dumbledore's mind with only a few sharply chosen words. What was more, she had enabled Harry to leave his hole of waiting and loathing far earlier than anyone had intended and she considered waving it over his head as a demand for recompense later in the year.

Suddenly, a sharp noise rang through the house. It was dulled by the closed door, but still shrill and demanding. Sirius rose first, announcing it to be the call of the Floo. Someone was attempting to reach them on Firecall. Remus pushed him back into his seat and went to answer it himself. There was a chance, no matter how slim, that it was no someone from the Order and the chaos that would ensure when Sirius popped into view would be immense. Although Sirius momentarily looked disgruntled that he could not answer his own fireplace, he dropped back into his seat merrily enough with a short reminder that at least he would not have to deal with whoever was on the other end, demanding to know whatever it is they wanted.

Seconds later, Remus rushed back into the room. He halted midway down the rickety staircase and everyone fell silent.

'It's Arabella Figg. She says it is urgent,' he said, locking eyes with Professor Dumbledore.

There was not a moment spared as Professor Dumbledore glided across the room and up the stairs, vanishing, leaving them only with his footsteps thudding up the next flight of stairs.

Then, everyone began talking at once.

'Mrs Figg?' demanded Cassy loudly. 'Why is Mrs Figg part of the Order?'

'You know her?' asked Ginny, as Remus and Sirius turned to her in surprise.

'She is the woman who used to take care of Harry when the Dursley's did not want him. Was she placed there all this time to watch him? What a terrible job she has done!' she cried.

Everyone else's voices got louder at her words. There were quick demands to know what was going on, if her call meant Harry was in trouble, what she meant that she had done a terrible job, and calls of who was supposed to be on watch that night. Shrilly, Mrs Weasley demanded they all sit quietly and stop asking questions immediately.

Cassy pursed her lips. Mrs Weasley made no sign to answer any of their questions, so Cassy did not sit. She stood in place firmly, her eyes darting from Sirius to Remus, then to Tonks, and then to Bill and Mr Weasley. When they were all too busy exchanging their own nervous gazes, Cassy moved with resolution. Unwaveringly, even as she was called to take a seat and return to the kitchen, she marched from the room. Swiftly, she made her way up the stairs, passing Professor Dumbledore in the hall as she did and then rounded up the next flight. She heard him should for Mr Weasley to attend to the Ministry, his voice deeper than she had ever heard it, rough and stony. It only served to make her feet move quicker.

Once locked in her room, she wasted no time pulling the mirror from her bedside table. She pressed the faint rune on the front of the mirror, hissing Harry's name several times before letting out a low growl. There was no answer. After some time of trying, she dropped it onto the bed.

Something had happened, that much was obvious. Even under the watchful eyes of the Order, something terrible had happened. If not, Professor Dumbledore would not have sounded so severe. If Mr Weasley had to go into the Ministry, then they were undoubtedly involved in some way. Just how they were never managed to spring to Cassy's mind, for there was a sharp bang on her door and the frantic twisting of her handle. A grunt followed and another loud, thunderous knock.

Slipping off her bed, Cassy unlocked it. Ginny tumbled in, her eyes instantly focusing on the mirror atop her blue bed covers.

'Did you get hold of him?' she asked quickly.

'No. Ginny, what is wrong?' questioned Cassy, closing the door and locking them in once more.

'Harry's been expelled. Dad's just got back, he said the alarm went off for under-aged magic. He did the Patronus Charm in front of a Muggle. They've expelled him,' she said in a single breath.

Cassy did not breath. She stared, stricken. There was simply no way, there was no way that Harry would be so careless, not unless something had happened. Harry was not stupid. He would not do such a thing to catch their attention, he would know he would be expelled; he loved Hogwarts. The only reason he would do such a thing was if there had been Dementors sent to Little Whinging.

'Dementors are supposed to be under the control of the Ministry of Magic though,' she said finally, quietly, her eyebrows sinking and her head turning to the side in thought.

'We're not sure what happened, but Dumbledore was livid,' said Ginny, dropping herself down onto the bed. She waved the mirror in her hand, her thumb on the rune. 'He's gone to try and sort it out. Hedwig has just appeared in the kitchen, pecking everyone. Harry wants to know what's going on right now.'

'He could just call me,' muttered Cassy. 'Then again, sending a letter is sure to get the attention of the Order and prove how vital it is they communicate with him. It would become suspicious if he remained calm. Someone might assume we do have free contact.'

'Do you think he would have thought of that?' asked Ginny.

'He can be very clever, even if his ideas are sometimes too complex. If he wants out, then he would know his best bet is sending a scathing letter.'

After a few minutes of restlessness, Ginny retreated back downstairs to see if any news had been brought in. The house was suddenly alight with movement and it was impossible to tell who was coming and going. Tonks had probably returned to the Ministry to alert Kingsley and minimise what damage she could. Mrs Weasley's worried voice rang from the kitchens and Sirius' deep voice called from much closer, demanding to know the latest developments as someone else slipped through the front door. Wulburga's portrait began screaming and no one had the time to silence her.

Something shifted within her hands. Automatically, her thumb flicked over the rune and she levelled the mirror to her face.

'Harry!' she cried and the same time he called her name. 'What is going on? Ginny said you have been expelled?'

'Not now. They did, but it was reconsidered and I have a trial on the twelfth of August. Cassy, when am I getting out of here?' he said. His hair seemed more dishevelled than usual, a genuine mess that his usual charming mop. His face was pallid. The tan he had gained from avoiding his aunt and uncle's house all summer had seemingly vanished behind the panic, his face shining brightly with concern and confusion.

'I do not know,' she replied honestly. 'I managed to get Professor Dumbledore to agree to let you spend the last few weeks here only minutes before Mrs Figg called to report.'

'Did you know she was in on it? That she was a Squib?' he asked.

'I would have told you if I did. Harry, what happened? No one is telling us anything.'

Harry let out a short laugh, as if bitterly pleased he was the one with the knowledge for once, yet he looked strongly as if he would rather not be. He explained that he had been walking with his cousin, teasing him for bullying a ten-year-old, although he knew he should have not. He said it became icy suddenly in the alley they were walking in. For a minute, he thought he had done accidental magic, but he quickly realised he could not have; he did not have the ability to erase the stars from the sky.

Cassy listened with rapt attention as he detailed his cousin's panic. He knew something had been there, but he had not been able to them. He had lost his wand when Dudley had hit him in panic, finding it again by calling for it to light - impressive magical control, noted Cassy, but she was very aware that was the last thing on his mind.

It was only on his third try that he produced a Patronus, his thought – he trailed off in embarrassment, but mumbling he admitted he that thought of his friends. Cassy did not have the heart to snicker at him, it was quite sweet that his final thoughts before a possible death had been them, but like his impressive magic, she did not think that would make him feel much better either. Instead, she nodded, urging him continue and he did, explaining the large, white stag that had exploded from his wand and chased away the pair of Dementors.

Before he could begin to help Dudley out of the ball he had curled himself tightly into, Mrs Figg had appeared at the end of the alley, scolding him for trying to hide his wand away in his pocket. According to her, Mundungus should have been on watch, although unsurprising to Harry, he had tried his best to pretend he was unaware of his supervision.

'She had never told me she was a Squib because of Dumbledore. He said I was too young to know anything and she knew if the Dursley's thought I was having fun I would never be left with her again. Mundungus was supposed to tell Dumbledore, but Mrs Figg decided to in the end. She told Mundungus to stay around in case they come back at my suggestion. I was all ready aware that I needed to get Dudley home and I could hardly hold him as it was. He vanished before I got him in the house though, he said he was going back to watch. He seemed to think it would make Dumbledore less angry,' recalled Harry with little enthusiasm.

'Hardly. I have never seen him so furious before. We might be a man down if you had not suggested he stay,' commented Cassy.

'Yeah, well, I doubt I would be able to fend them off again if they came to the house. It's only the second time I have produced a corporeal Patronus. If I had to protect all three of them then I thought it might not end as well,' he admitted, but Cassy nodded firmly in agreement.

'That is clever. It still means you have the protection you should have been having all the while. I assume the letter then arrived to expel you?' said Cassy.

'Yeah, the rest if straight forward. I got that letter, my aunt and uncle wanted to know what happened, demanded I leave and blaming me for Dudley's state. I then got a letter from Mr Weasley telling me not to leave the house or surrender my wand. I considered making a run for it at this point, but then I would have no where to go. Dudley then said I pointed my wand at him – the little liar – utterly deluded from the attack. Turns out Aunt Petunia knows what Dementors are though, she even said they guard Azkaban. Apparently she recalled my mum talking about them once.

'I received a letter stating I did not have to hand over my wand, but attend a meeting on the twelfth instead. I think Uncle Vernon was disappointed they had not sentenced me to death though.'

He is building his own death sentence, thought Cassy seething.

'I got a letter from Sirius that told me to stay where I am again... My uncle tried to kick me out of the house again and then, oddly enough to top it all off, Aunt Petunia received a Howler,' he finished lightly, as if discussing the weather.

Ignoring Harry's heavy levels of sarcasm, Cassy asked, 'From who?' She frowned and Harry shrugged.

'It just said "Remember my last, Petunia". Last what, I don't know. I was hoping you would know who it was from, but apparently not.' He threw himself backwards onto his bed, lifting the mirror above his head. He did not bother to adjust his crooked glasses.

'And you did not recognise the voice in the slightest?' asked Cassy with an intrigued frown.

'It should be a crime for you to look so delighted at my misfortune,' snorted Harry.

Cassy rolled her eyes in return. 'It is not that at all!'

* * *

It was early the next morning that Cassy was once again sitting on her bed with the mirror in her hand and Harry's grass green eyes staring back at her. There was nothing to report to him. Hushed and very early, numerous people had crept through the halls of Grimmauld Place. The kitchen had been closed off the the last hour, wards drawn up so the Extendible Ears could not function and no one was keen to share anything when it was finally opened for breakfast.

The days that followed were no more informative that the last. However, on the fourth, Tonks pulled Cassy aside, muttering that they had made plans to go and collect him that evening. While she did not know the exact time, she had reported it back to Harry anyway, receiving and exasperated and grateful reply of 'finally'.

It was not formally announced until after dinner when everyone who had volunteered – Tonks had assured her there were many eager participants – had all ready left. Cassy slunk up to her room to have a peaceful hour of reading before they returned, tucked away out of the sights and minds of the Weasley children who would want to discuss it and far away from the eyes of her brooding father, who appeared to be sulking that he could not go and pick up his Godson himself.

Slowly, she was working her way through the rather large stack of books she had collected from throughout the house. It was becoming such a stack that it was impossible to ignore and if her father saw it he would banish them all before she had a chance to get a word in, having all ready taken one away from her that morning.

The door was propped open, not wide enough to be inviting, but just enough to let the slow activities of the house to reach her listening ears. Not that she needed it open to hear the bangs and thuds of Fred and George in a room above. They had returned to working on their new material; odd smells leaked through the halls each morning and Cassy had the sneaking suspicion they only woke as early as they did in a bid to hide it from their mother every day.

The doorbell sounded, short and sharp. Pages ceased turning and Cassy remained fixed with her fingers pinching the corner of the page as her eyes halted at the very last word. Slowly, her head inclined to the door. Voiced rang out out in the hall, cheerful and relieved greetings exchanged softly in mind on the portraits.

With a wide smile, she strode down the corridor, lingering at the top with her forearms resting on the bannister rail. Below her, Mrs Weasley hugged Harry tightly. Several of the Order of the Phoenix members who had yet to push past lingered behind them, chatting idly, Tonks amongst them with Remus by her side.

Suddenly, Harry looked up and beamed. Cassy smiled back down at him and he manoeuvred the stairs, catching her tightly at the top in a fierce hug of his own.

'Those are becoming quite common,' she remarked when he released her.

Unabashed, he continued to beam.

'Ah, Cassy, can you show Harry to his room. He'll be sharing with Ron,' whispered Mrs Weasley loudly.

'Right beside mine then,' said Cassy. She waved for Harry to follow her down the long hall. His eyes drifted over the heads mounted high and the scowling portraits, he stepped away from the reaches of the shifting boxes and the smiling figurines that were fixed to the walls.

'So, this is the house of your ancestors?' he said conversationally.

'Yes, although I imagine it was much grander in its prime. My Grandmother was starting to let it rot before she died,' answered Cassy.

'The Grandmother fixed behind the curtain in the Entrance Hall?' he asked.

'The very same. I am sure you will get to meet her soon. Something will upset her.'

Cassy knocked on Ron's bedroom door, indicating to her own as they passed. There was no answer.

'If you're looking for Ron, he's upstairs in Fred and George's room. They got Neville to agree to help them with something and he's yet to return, so Ron went to do some damage control,' said a voice behind them.

'All right, Ginny?' said Harry.

'Not bad, better that you, I reckon,' she said.

Harry turned back to Cassy. 'So, Neville is here?'

'Only when they intend to have meetings. His Grandmother brings him,' she said simply.

By the time they had reached the upper landing, the three of them could all ready hear the muffled discussion from twins' bedroom. Despite the door being shut, heated words leaked through the cracks and Cassy made a mental note to reprimand Neville for letting himself be a test subject for Fred and George, most likely having got himself into trouble if Ron's grumbles were anything to go by. True to this, when Cassy entered without so much as announcing her presence, she saw Neville lying on George's bed, eyes close and face relaxed; he almost seemed blissfully asleep.

'Have you tried another one of your Fainting Fancies?' asked Cassy as she strode by to perch on the edge of George's bed.

'Evening, Harry,' chimed both Fred and George, not looking up from their notes.

'Hey,' he said lifelessly back.

It was remarkable, in Cassy's honest opinion, that Harry had yet to make a jibe or jab about the house yet. He had been there for three minutes and had retained his temper, something Cassy had expected to boil over immediately once all of the Order members were out of sight. Instead, he took a seat on Fred's bed beside Ron, while Ginny mumbled something about checking the wards on the kitchen door, snatching a box of Dungbombs off the chest of drawers.

'Cassy, dear,' said George, imitating his mother's warm, sweet voice she always used with her, 'please fan Neville to stop him over-heating.' He handed her a thin fan from what appeared to be transfigured paper.

Cassy looked at it and back to Neville, casting a look of long suffering at George.

'He'll be fine! We thought we had the remedy sorted and obviously the next phase was to test it on someone else. These things happen. He even sighed a waver,' he said, holding up a scrap of paper with lines of crooked, hand-written agreements covering it.

'That will never hold up in court if you kill him,' she said, unimpressed and somewhat teasing.

'Will you sue us?' asked Fred.

'No, but his Grandmother might have something to say about it,' she said lightly, smirking as the twins shuddered. Even Ron looked grim on their behalf.

'Well, woman, don't just sit there – fan him!' demanded Fred and Cassy was very nearly about to retort than he should fan him himself when the bedroom door opened once more. Ginny poked her head in, heaving a heavy sigh.

'The Extendible Ears are a no go,' she said, grabbing a cloth from the side to wipe her blackened hands. 'I tried to flick Dungbombs at it, but they just bounced right off and inch before hitting it. They've shielded it.'

Everyone groaned.

'It must be important then,' said Ron morosely.

'I still think Moody will have seen the ears. It is probably his doing,' said Cassy.

'Well, you can always ask Sirius, can't you?' asked Ginny eagerly.

'I can try, but I might have to wait a few days,' agreed Cassy thoughtfully.

'Sirius tells you about the meetings?' queried Harry suddenly.

Cassy turned. There was something in his tone that made her wary. Still, she nodded. 'Sometimes. The contents of the meeting are at parental digression, so I can usually learn information from my father, although I hardly assume this to be the entire meetings contents.'

Her words were picked carefully, delicate and with no meaning beyond how she had used them. She could still see rage bubbling beneath the surface in Harry's face, ready, if anyone would take it, to explode and release the pent up emotions, the resentment and the sadness, that he had held within all summer. While Cassy had been on the receiving end of a fair few battles during the past month, his words harsher and more demanding than anything he had ever lashed in her direction, she had always known that he took a great deal of effort to restrain those feelings in their conversations. After all, Cassy was the one person giving him information. She had been doing her best to keep him in the loop when amongst people who were keen to keep him in the dark, unaware of what Voldemort was plotting, despite the numerous attempts he had made on his life over the years.

They both knew, and perhaps that was why Cassy had not taken such great offence to his criticisms, that his anger did not lay with their friends, but with their Headmaster. Yet, a sort of renewed irritation was beginning to show for his Godfather.

'Harry,' she said curtly, before he could possibly find the words to begin an angry tirade, 'if my father was willing to leave hiding, come back to Britain, and to live in a cave eating only rats for months last year, I think we can safely say he does have your best intentions at heart.'

Harry deflated quickly and he sighed.

George, who had inclined his head towards them as they spoke, shifted on the ground, fixing Harry with a peculiarly serious expression. 'Mate, you need to calm down. We are all frustrated. Fred and I haven't been allowed to join, even though we're of age. Trust us, if we were in the Order, we would let you know everything we did.'

'It's totally unfair that you don't know anything more than us, I mean, it is you You-Know-Who has it in for. We've told you before,' said Ron.

'Yeah, so don't blow up, all right?' added Ginny.

Harry bit his lip and Cassy could tell he was thinking hard about it. The mild resignation on his face had not left by the time Mrs Weasley called them downstairs again, eager to fill Harry's stomach with sandwiches. He worked his way through two before Sirius piped up about the meeting. Just as he did with Cassy, he spoke honestly. Much of it was things they had all ready told him through the mirror, the little things they had worked out or listened in on, but there was one defining fact that he raised that had everyone's rapt attention.

'He wants stuff he can only get by stealth, like a weapon. Something he did not have last time,' said Sirius and suddenly everyone's ears pricked.

Before Harry was able to finish asking what kind of weapon it might be, Mrs Weasley had cut him off and ended the discussion. Like most nights when she had had enough of the children, she sent them to bed early. Neville said his goodbyes before departing with his Grandmother and everyone trekked up to bed. Ginny was still scowling from her mother trying to evict her before the talk, holding on barely by stating Cassy would merely tell her everything anyway and when Cassy nodded along in defence, she had been allowed to remain.

* * *

The mood of the house barely picked up the next day. At long last, they were going to begin cleaning the Drawing Room. Mrs Weasley seemed pleased by the prospect of having somewhere comfortable to sit and Cassy knew she had obviously never actually been in the room. It was as far from comfortable as it could be with the age old stuffing in the chairs having become hard and uncompromising from neglect.

Sirius responded to Mrs Weasley's curt questionings with as much enthusiasm as Cassy had for the day. It was clear she was only asking out of courtesy and that she had no interest in what he wanted, still visible annoyed from his willingness to shed light of the Order's actions on her children the night before.

Once she had escaped upstairs to once again call for breakfast, Remus turned to Cassy and Sirius with a pointed look that appeared very well practised.

'It is difficult enough with one moody mutt, I don't need two,' he said, casting a long suffering look at Cassy.

'My enthusiasm for cleaning can only stretch so far for so long,' she responded despondently.

Sirius nodded along with her. 'She has a point.'

'It has to be done, so if you two could just cheer up - '

'Easy for you to say, you get to leave this wretched place,' snapped Sirius.

Remus took no notice.

Once breakfast was done and cleared, Cassy's spirits had lifted slightly. The reality of cleaning with Mrs Weasley was, in fact, very different to what she had envisioned in her mind. As long as she made a little bit of progress and appeared busy blasting Doxys from the air with disinfectant, she did not really have to do much beyond share the occasional dead-eyed look with her father and Harry, the latter of whom worked well under the command, yet appeared as if this was the very opposite of how he had imagined spending time in the house.

'I told you it was not all fun and games,' said Cassy lowly when Harry arrived back from where he had been speaking to Sirius. 'Or much fun at all, really.'

'Still better than being locked in my bedroom,' he mumbled back, picking up one of the last sandwiches that had been saved for him. Sirius had explained all about the family tree and it seemed the reality of Cassy's widespread heritage had only begun to sink into Harry's mind when he could visualise the full history of it. The pair often broke off through that day to talk to one another and Cassy found that she did not mind at all. Whereas their closeness had previously played on her mind, she almost found that she had settled that part of herself, found peace with the position of her father in her life after several late night conversations and early morning starts where the two had found each other for company.

She almost felt as though she owed him an apology. Her temper had been short and her interest in him even less so, yet he had stuck around and persevered with her when blood clearly meant so little to him. Yet, there was still twelve years of damage to be calculated, an entire history to be settled and endless disappointments and years of resentment to be burnt before Cassy felt she would ever be entirely happy.

Regardless, she found herself pleased that the two were talking. Harry always missed Sirius terribly, worrying for his well-being as the only adult he had in his life who truly acted as if he cared for him and not for a greater purpose.

Perhaps, thought Cassy as she listened to the kettle boil later that night, that is why I do not feel so angry any more. He may not have prioritised his daughter when she was young, running recklessly to avenge his friends, but he was managing well to care for Harry when he needed him the most. Slowly, he was working his way back into Cassy's favour too with kind words and his black humoured jokes, well aware that his relationship with his daughter required more of a delicate hand.

Kreacher grumbled around her knees, cursing her beneath his breath. She paid him no mind, stretching out her back where the muscles had knotted from a day spent ducking beneath furniture to rid the room of Doxy's once and for all. By the end of the day, Mrs Weasley was confident they had got them all, but warned them back for duty tomorrow just to be sure. Ron, who had been bitten no less than five times, groaned loudly at the prospect, barely able to life his knife and fork at dinner with his swollen fingers.

Plucking the mug back out of Kreacher's hands as he pulled it from the side to undoubtedly hoard it in his cupboard, Cassy turned her head. The door at the top of the stairs opened and yet no one descended. A few seconds passed before Cassy turned back to the kettle.

'It is just me,' she called.

Feet them began to shuffle down the stairs, light footed, yet tall, if the long shadows cast across the walls were anything to measure by.

'I didn't want to come down in case it was something else,' came a low voice from behind.

'Such as what?' she asked, tipping the boiling water into the mug at last. 'Do you want one?'

'Er – yeah, sure. I don't know. After everything you said about this house I had high expectations for weirdness,' he said, taking a seat at the table. A faint scrape sounded, indicating that Harry had pulled her book across the table to get a better look at.

'There is nothing wrong with the house, oh no. The only thing wrong with it is the vile people within it, Half-Bloods and Blood-Traitors - ' sounded Kreacher's seething voice from the far corner.

'Ignore him,' said Cassy quietly, setting the drinks down. 'He is under the impression we cannot hear his mutterings. Do you want some treacle tart? Mrs Weasley made me some, she said it will cheer me up and otherwise I will have to eat the entire thing by myself before she fusses and makes me another one.'

'Sure,' said Harry. 'It's my favourite and that hardly sounds like a bad deal at all.'

'It is very sweet of her, but I only eat so much and frankly being force fed is not high on my list of favourite pastimes,' complained Cassy. She cut two generous slices of tart before putting the remained back in the fridge and joining Harry at the table.

He thanked her, his eyes remaining on the index of the book she had selected to keep her company in the early hours of the morning. His frown grew the more he read and Cassy could all ready anticipate the questions he would surely ask, having no answers prepared other than the truth.

'This is like the book Sirius took off you in the Drawing Room, isn't it?' he asked seriously. She regarded him coolly as he continued, 'Why do you read this, you always swore you hated this sort of stuff.'

'I want to know everything there is to know about what constitutes as Dark Magic, because I want to understand what happened to Alphard. No one seems able to tell me what it was that happened, the spell, the caster, the effects, reluctant to tell me even how it caused _it_. I want to know as much as I can so it can _never_ happen again to anyone I care for,' she explained coldly, firmly, confident and unwavering in her motives.

It was the first time she had ever mentioned Alphard's death since his passing. She had said his name, but it almost seemed as if he were alive when she did, mentioning in passing of him and their home. Her stomach gave an uncomfortable twinge and a voice in the back of her mind wished she could take it all back, erasing the stinging in her tongue that his name left.

For a moment, Harry just stared, before his eyes flicked down to the table. 'Sorry.'

'What for?' she asked, her voice almost casual as she took an unnecessarily large spoonful of tart into her mouth.

'I pestered you a lot over the last month for information about what's going on with the Order when I should have let you concentrate on other things than just what I wanted,' he said quietly.

Cassy raised an eyebrow, feeling slightly guilty at his forlorn expression. 'You asked how I was so frequently that it became quite irritating, actually. That was enough for me.'

'Still... and what do you mean it was irritating? I asked once every time we spoke, that's called being polite,' protested Harry.

'Try three or four times,' drawled Cassy in a mock whisper.

'That's just rude,' grumbled Harry.

The pair smiled at each other from beneath their brows as they continued to make short work of the pudding.

'Still, do not be so over-sensitive about my well-being. I read because I want to and that is sufficient,' said Cassy with finality. 'Being so careful will not get you far in this house, the inhabitants will make short work of you. Why are you up so late, anyway?'

'There seems to be something living in the wall cavity that woke me up. Then, I heard you get up and not come back, so I just got out of bed because I wasn't going back to sleep any time soon,' he said with a shrug. 'Why are you up?'

'I am always up late and you might want to get as much sleep as you can, we have more cleaning to do tomorrow.'

Harry groaned.

* * *

**Ta-da! The long awaited arrival of Harry.**

**I had a Guest reviewer appear on _Skin of a Dragon_ to correct some of my spelling mistakes. This is absolutely fine. My word processor thinks half of what I put isn't real anyway because of all the unusual names, and I am apparently probably dyslexic (two school and my university have wanted me tested, but I refused each time) so I have a tendency to miss mistakes when I read it back. I kind of see what I expect to and not what is there. I will have a closer look from now on though and will try and correct the mistakes in the past stories. If I do keep spelling something wrong, let me know. **

**What do you think? I didn't have Harry blow up because he wasn't completely kept in the dark and was shut down before he could get his anger out. I feel as though Ron and Hermione should have called him out a little bit more for expecting too much of them in the book, but I understand why he was cross. **

**Also, what do you think of my little introduction to the Dark Arts? A slippery slope, Cassy! I do think the best counter-measure is to understand what you are up against, but it is never really delved into, so we might see some unfavourable interests going on in the background.**

**I appreciate all of the reviews. Tell me what you think as always. **

**Thanks!**


	7. Contained freedom

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter VII: Contained freedom**

Light filtered in around the golden curtains the same that morning as it did every morning. The bright, garish yellow light of the lamp post crawled across the white ceiling and down to the wooden floor. The Sun had yet to rise, but it was coming, threatening infect the bedroom with an infallible light that would surely bleed through her eyelids and stop sleep claiming her once more, but Cassy had no intention of sleeping anyway.

The large clock above the fireplace read half-four. There was no movement from within the house, not even Kreacher patrolling the halls as he often did. It seemed like a good excuse to remain wrapped in the covers, obscenely comfortable for once with the simple knowledge that, for the first time in weeks, she really should be waking before sunrise. Yet, her eyes refused to remain closed and her mind continued to over-work as it always did. Swiftly, before she could second guess her choice another time, Cassy rolled over and switched on the lamp on her bedside table. Following the motion, she slipped out of bed, plucking the silk dressing gown from the back of the door and shut it behind her silently.

Gingerly, she stepped down the hall. The carpet was sticky, mottled with stains and subject to change appearance at the pleasure of the houses tiny keeper. Cassy did not look down. She did not want to know what squelched beneath her outside of Harry and Ron's bedroom. Quietly, she rapped her knuckles on the varnished wood of their door. Shuffling sounded from within and soon the pale face of her friend peaked out to greet her.

'Hey,' he whispered.

Cassy took a step back to allow him to slip into the hall. Harry shut the door behind him, muffling Ron's carefree snores.

'How are you?' she asked quietly.

'Feeling great, never better,' he replied and Cassy shifted on the spot, then smiled slightly up at him.

'Just so you know, if you do get expelled, I am not above acquiring a wand for you,' she said, flippantly.

He managed a genuine, crooked smile back down at her. 'Whatever happened to everyone being certain I will get off for it?'

'It is just an offer,' she said casually. 'Feel free to decline.'

'Absolutely not. Maybe if I did get expelled I could live a magical life free from the papers and the hassle of the wizarding world...' he joked, his voice quivering slightly towards the beginning.

'Are we that bad?' She held her smile well.

Harry shrugged. 'I suppose I can make room for you to visit occasionally.'

'I do not need your permission, Potter,' retorted Cassy.

Considering Harry had paid Fred and George a thousand Galleons to offer some joy, it was a personal triumph to make him laugh on the day that may dictate his entire future. Slowly, both their smiles began to slip from their faces. Cassy took a deep breath.

'Keep your head held high. Do not answer back, even if they provoke you and there will certainly be those that try. You need to keep your story straight. Do not let them pressure you into contradicting yourself. If they cut you off them let them. You have to remain calm and continue when they stop. Do not fight, it puts you in a bad light,' she instructed. 'Wear something nice. I had something delivered for you. You must make a good impression.'

'Are those where those clothes came from?' asked Harry curiously.

'Of course,' she said, firmly. 'I could not let you appear in court in your usual attire.'

'What's wrong with my usual clothes?' he asked indignantly.

Cassy cast him a piercing stare and Harry threw up his hands in surrender. 'Point taken.'

'I mean it. Try and win their hearts and their minds. Make eye contact. Someone has set you up,' she said, 'and keep an eye out for who is against you, who is leading the crowd. Make a note of the friendly faces. Sometimes those with the most power possess the least subtly.'

'I will.'

The two did not hug. Hugging would be suggesting she thought she would not see him again, a good-bye and an acknowledgement he needed luck. Instead, Cassy went back to her room without more than a smile and got herself ready for the day. She heard Harry slowly return to his room and moments later step back out and down the hall, creaking on the stairs as he shifted his weight uncertainly on each and every one of them.

By the time Cassy exited her room again, her hair tied loosely over one shoulder, she was just in time to see Harry arrive at the door. A smell of bacon and sausages filled the hall from the hurried breakfast Mrs Weasley had cooked him, most likely uneaten. It was one of the similarities the pair shared when stressed; they did not eat. Beside Harry was Mr Weasley tensely smiling to his wife, who had just swept Harry in for a tight embrace. Tonks was behind, along with Sirius, who was smiling as Harry peered at him through Mrs Weasley's curly red hair. She held him close for a long time. Mr Weasley slowly put his hand on Harry's shoulder, peeling him backwards slowly from his wife, who smiled tensely at him.

'You'll be fine dear,' she said, although it was clear how she doubted her own words.

Tersely, Harry ventured a glance up at the stairs. He looked away and then quickly doubled back around. There was no doubt that he had gazed up the stairs before. They locked eyes and Cassy slowly nodded in assurance. Harry did not nod back. He stared up at her until Mr Weasley pulled him from the house, tipping his hat to the others in the hall as he went. The door slammed and Harry was gone.

Cassy ignored the sinking sensation in her stomach.

'Cassy,' came a voice from below, forcing her to recognise the others' presences. 'Come and have breakfast.'

Cassy opened her mouth to decline Mrs Weasley's offer, she did not feel much like eating. It was too early and she hardly considered grouping herself in with Harry's worried parental figures to be a proactive way to spend the wait. However, Tonks clapped her hands together.

'Yeah, I haven't - ' she let out a long, loud yawn, 'properly seen you in ages. We haven't had a good conversation since you've been here. Come and chat.'

'Should you not go to bed?' asked Cassy with a slight frown.

Her cousin shook her head and waved. 'I'll come and get you if you try and wander back to your room.'

Knowing very much that Tonks would unashamedly drag her down the flight of stairs with her bare hands, Cassy conceded to the undoubtedly uncomfortable meal.

Breakfast was a dull affair, if anything. No one spoke much, beyond Tonks' continuing chatter and the punctuated murmurs of acknowledgement from Cassy. Once Tonks agreed to return home to finally sleep from her late night shift, the kitchen fell into deeper wariness. Mrs Weasley washed the plates unnaturally slowly; Sirius stared across to the wall blankly, his smile having slipped from his tired face the moment Harry had left the house; Remus waited patiently, the calmest of the adults.

'He will not be charged,' he said suddenly. 'Dumbledore will not allow it.'

'Dumbledore doesn't control all of the wizarding world,' said Sirius lowly.

The conversation died before it had a chance to blossom. Cassy wondered if she could possibly sneak up to her room and escape the awkward silence, but whenever she shifted in her seat Mrs Weasley would look up sharply, twitching at the sound as if it might have been the front door opening with news.

Relief came in the form of Ginny and Hermione traipsing down at half-seven. They slumped into the room, their stooping shoulders and puffy eyes telling of their late night conversations and forced early start. They looked between the three at the table carefully as their blurry eyes allowed. Quickly, Mrs Weasley jumped up to put the next round of sausages into the pan, seemingly more cheerful with a crowd to be pleasant for. Her face was tight.

'What time did you get up?' asked Hermione. She had arrived three days prior. Unable to stay away at the short, rather cruelly so, letter that Harry had sent about the incident at Privet Drive, she had demanded her arrival regardless of Cassy's previous discretion. She had had a lot to say on the matter having spent the time before her arrival researching every law and every loophole in his defence.

'Half-four,' replied Cassy, standing to make herself another cup of tea.

'_Why?_' questioned Ginny, incredulously.

'So I could speak to Harry before he left,' she said shortly.

'How was he?' said Hermione.

'Fine,' lied Cassy.

Not long afterwards, Ron and Neville, who had specially requested he be allowed to stay the night before to be present for the verdict, along with Fred and George appeared around the table. The continuous smell of bacon and egg wafting through the various levels of the house after an hour had eventually roused the boys from their slumber. Tiredly, they wiped at their eyes and took their seats. Like Hermione, Neville asked after Harry and they all listened eagerly as Ginny retold them what Cassy had said. Every time it was said, Sirius seemed to ease a fragment more. It was surprising, to Cassy at least, that he could gather concern so quickly; he had been calm and dismissive of the trial until the very point Harry had walked from the door. His equanimity had crumbled, although Cassy largely thought she was the only one to see it.

However, she did not make eye contact with him. He was far to intent on guzzling as many mugs of coffee as possible and Cassy had found new interest in the cookbook that had been propping up a crooked kitchen door. Slowly, she flicked through the pages, scanning the recipes and eyeing the moving drawn images, their lines thick and bold, showing its age. Ginny had leant over when Cassy made a muffled, throaty noise of indignation as she came to a chapter titled 'Baking with banes'. Despite herself, Cassy turned to see exactly what poison foods the book suggested.

As the boys tucked into their first meals and Mrs Weasley sought to offer the left overs around, especially to Sirius who had not yet eaten at all, the post arrived. Fred and George received a letter from Lee Jordon and Cassy one too. The looping green letters across the front was telling of Astoria.

'More post again, dear?' asked Mrs Weasley. 'You really must tell them to write less.'

'I have,' defended Cassy. 'I merely have more people who wish to converse with me.' It almost sounded like a jibe and while Cassy hated the possibility of being rude to Mrs Weasley, she had explained the situation multiple times. If they were going to send letters then they would. If she told them to halt all together, there was a sizeable possibility that they would merely write more.

Mrs Weasley's head tilted to one side slight as she smiled forcefully. She was hardly in the mood to smile while Harry was on trial. 'I know, but - '

'Oh, let her get her post, Molly. It's good to have some contact from the outside world. So what if people notice owls hanging about? They will never find this place anyway. It is too well guarded,' snapped Sirius, throwing down the _Daily Prophet_.

Confined to the house and each other's company, even their arguments had begun to repeat.

'Dumbledore said - ' began Mrs Weasley sharply.

'Dumbledore can make mistakes. Just because he thinks it is best to be locked up - ' snapped Sirius.

'We are not talking about you! You are talking about your daughter's constant post!' she shouted.

'And I am saying that it is no harm to get the odd letter every week!' he roared back.

'This is because Albus said you can't accompany Harry to the trial – and with good reason,' she said shrilly, waving her hand as if to bat away an irritating fly. 'If you want to be caught then so be it, but not on the head of anyone else.'

'This is not about me,' laughed Sirius incredulously. 'We are talking about post!'

'Are we? Or were we really talking about you gallivanting out freely when you know very well why you can't?' she said tensely. Then, without another acknowledgement, she turned back to the counter, furiously scrubbing at the pans.

At the table, Sirius huffed and picked the paper back up, opening it loudly and widely to bury his face within the moving pages. The teens peered between each other silently. Slowly, but too noisily, Ginny scraped back her chair.

'I want you all back here in ten minutes!' snapped Mrs Weasley. She did not turn to face them.

'Right,' said George.

'Sure,' agreed Ron quickly.

Everyone scrambled up the staircase, not slowing until they reached the very top of the first flight of stairs. Below them, Walburga grumbled behind her curtain at the noise. Only when they heard the kitchen door swing shut did they burst into nervous, loud whispers. The Weasleys separated back to their rooms, but Hermione remained behind, staring grimly at Cassy.

'He does know that Dumbledore was right not to let him go, doesn't he?' she asked, her lips pressed thinly together.

'Most likely. It is not as though the possibility of Pettigrew having informed the Death Eaters of his animagus form would have escaped him,' answered Cassy with a sigh. She agreed with Professor Dumbledore that it was far too risky to let Sirius go. Too many workers were old Death Eaters and Fudge himself knew of Sirius was potentially in contact with her, Harry, and Remus. To see a dog in the building would only cause suspicion and if he were to be captured now, all of the Order of the Phoenix could be risked to exposure at the rigorous questioning that was sure to follow. Harry would certainly be expelled for aiding a man, however innocent, who was a wanted criminal. Cassy would be fortunate not to get the same fate. Sirius must know that, she reasoned. 'His desire to leave the house to be of use might be overwhelming though,' she finished, half speaking to herself and half to Hermione.

'It must be terrible, but it has to be better than eating rats in a cave like last year, right?' said Hermione, wrapping her jumper tighter around herself.

Cassy's lips thinned darkly. Sirius would most certainly argue with that.

They regrouped sometime later. The arduous chore of cleaning was set upon them once again, this time for the grand dining room on the ground floor of which they had never touched. Armed with spray bottles and gloves, they were tasked with sorting through what could and could not be thrown away. The walls were blue with silver accents. Like every other room, a grand fireplace sat at the far end, the long, dark wood table stretching across the centre of the floor above a dusty, but very beautiful mat. Large windows were soon uncovered, so thick with years of grime that the dim light of the early morning struggled to penetrate at all. Over to one side of the room was a pile of boxes filled with objects best left to Sirius' discretion. He had not emerged from the kitchen. Yet, they cleaned better than ever before. Rather than simply moving objects around in an attempt to shy from the chore, they embraced it. It was repetitive and meticulous, mind consuming at the best of times and that meant forgetting for a few precious moments that Harry was in his trial by now, presenting his evidence and hearing the prosecution, being drilled for all possibilities on how Dementors could possibly have arrived in the little Muggle suburbs.

Cassy took a sheet of the day's newspaper that had been brought up to wrap some of the more delicate items in. Before each sheet was wrapped around anything, Cassy combed it for information. The pages had yet to contain much. There was some idol gossip and an interesting article on new international relations formed by the Triwizard Tournament, but it spoke nothing of Harry, nor of any suspicious activities.

'Oy, if we have to clean then so do you,' said Fred, snatching the paper from her. 'Just because your dad owns the house doesn't mean you get to laze around.'

'If you do not clean, then what is the point of you?' she asked, blinking owlishly. Turning to get another piece of paper, she pretended not to see the indignation on Fred's face as she did her best to appear utterly serious.

'George, she just compared us to house-elves,' he cried.

'Oh, no,' said Cassy severely. 'My house-elves are far more useful than either of you.'

Fred threw a scrunched paper ball at her. She moved a fraction to the side and it soared by to hit Neville in the back of the head.

'If you three are seen messing around, your mother won't be pleased,' came Hermione's low voice from the other side of the huge dining room.

'She is not my mother and she is all ready vexed about my post, so I will take my chances,' drawled Cassy. Laughing eased the worry inside and finally conversation was struck.

'She isn't actually mad at you, you know. She is just concerned because Dumbledore warned us about the mail. I think it worries her that we might be found out and traced,' offered Ginny, moving to stack more books back onto the shelves.

'As far as anyone is concerned, I am still living with Tonks. She occasionally goes out pretending to be me – although I am still unsure how I feel about that,' said Cassy.

'You're lucky she's not mad at you. She always likes the friends better than her own kids. She thinks Harry is a tiny Merlin with the way she looks at him,' said Ron with a lazy laugh.

'I do hope he is all right,' fretted Hermione and with that, the tone became very sombre.

The glum feeling continued into lunch. A slight panic had risen that he had not returned yet and swirling questions about what if he could not return and had to go back to his aunt and uncle began to rise. Cassy frowned at Neville, stating she would sooner go there and bring him back herself if that was the case and while Sirius nodded beside her, Hermione looked more dubious. Her eyes were fixed to the clock nervously.

'When he gets back, I'll have to make him a few sandwiches. He hardly ate breakfast. He'll be hungry. Oh, what's his favourite, what do we have?' rambled Mrs Weasley as she mulled around the kitchen noisily. As the pots were shoved into the cupboard for the third time as she rearranged them needlessly, a sudden sound from upstairs halted all movement. No one even dared to shift in their seat, listening carefully to the footsteps above. Two sets. Two people had returned.

The kitchen door opened quietly. The tattered, old shoes of Mr Weasley slipped onto the staircase first, then Harry's new trainers that Cassy had brought him for his birthday. Mr Weasley's face was blank and Harry looked as pale and uncertain as he ever did. Then, suddenly but too slowly for Cassy's liking, he broke out into a wide grin.

'I knew it!' cheered Ron, throwing a fist into the air.

'He got off, he got off,' cheered Fred, George, and Ginny over and over in a mantra.

'What took you so long?' reprimanded Cassy. She stood and Harry held out his arms for a hug. She pulled back after a few seconds. 'How did it go then?'

'Well, I'm not expelled,' he said brightly, laughing at Cassy's pointed stare. 'I won't be needing that wand, at least.'

'Consider it an open offer. It will still be there for next time you might need it,' she said.

'Expecting that soon?' he asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Well, you being you...' Cassy smirked and Harry pushed her shoulder playfully.

'Oh, Harry!' cried Hermione, unable to hold her relief in any longer. Even Harry's Seeker reflexes could not protect him from the lightning fast missile of tangled brown hair that Hermione had become. She wrapped her arms around his neck, dragging him down to her height. 'I knew you'd be fine.'

'Really? It looks like everyone's relieved, actually,' he teased.

'Yeah, well, for a moment we accidentally thought you were a normal person and worried you might not come back,' said Neville. He clapped Harry on the back with a grin.

'Well, if this one woman had her way I certainly wouldn't have been,' said Harry, finally being released.

When everyone was once again seated around the table and Harry had been forcefully fed several sandwiches, he began to tell them of his trial; how the time had been changed suddenly, how a toad-faced woman in pink had seemed to have an instant and formidable dislike for him, smiling often in a nasty, spiteful way that he was certain she thought was actually cute. Her voice was irritatingly high and sweet, but not nearly as much so as her penetrating, ringing giggle.

Small groups of cheerful chatter broke out across the table. Sirius and Mr Weasley were talking in hushed tones at the very end and Mrs Weasley was scolding Fred, George, and Ginny for their continuous chanting earlier as they threatened to renew it at the end of Harry's retelling. In amusement, Cassy turned to Harry, her eyes shining brightly. They dimmed slightly; Harry's hand had risen to his scar once again.

'Are you all right?' whispered Neville from across the table, having caught the gesture too.

'Fine,' said Harry quickly.

'Is it hurting again?' asked Hermione with a light frown.

'His scar?' queried Ron. 'Why would that hurt?'

'It doesn't. It's just a headache,' protested Harry sternly.

'He has not had a drink in over six hours, Harry is probably just slightly dehydrated,' voiced Cassy civilly.

Harry cast her a long, thankful side-long stare.

* * *

Following the wonderful news of Harry's trial, spirits lifted and remained higher than they had been all summer. Even cleaning could not dampen them. In fact, as more and more rooms began to look the part they were built for everyone became even more joyous, knowing the tedious task was finally almost complete. Tonks had even remarked how Cassy had brightened up a lot since June.

Sirius, on the other hand, seemed tense. The shorter the days became as they made way for the long autumn nights, he appeared to sink into himself somewhat, still smiling, but frowning whenever he thought no one was watching. Cassy had taken to watching his moods swap and change from a distance. There were too many ways to be brushed aside, too many ways to drive the delicate relationship the two had forged in captivity together away and place them both back at square one. She mentioned it in passing to Tonks instead, trusting her to pass a message on to Remus without prompting and to leave it to her father's old friend to stabilise his mood. She knew he did not want them to leave. He would be alone again. Hermione called him selfish; Neville called him lonely. Either description irritated Harry.

It was not until the final day of the holidays that the book list arrived. They should have arrived weeks ago, but Cassy had a suspicion that Professor Dumbledore had withheld theirs, just in case Harry had been expelled, or the sight of half a dozen school letters vanishing in the middle of London caught the eye of any unwanted witch of wizard. Mrs Weasley had inspected each of her children's lists in the kitchen, making note of each new book they needed and thankfully there were few. Ginny had all ready been given Ron's old books and Fred and George needed one for Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Ron another two. Cassy handed over money along with Harry and Hermione at breakfast, thanking her for the offer to get their books too as she bustled upstairs with her little list held tightly in her hand.

As discussion broke out about who the new Professor was, Fred and George stated their parents had been talking of how difficult Professor Dumbledore had found finding another replacement, and Ron stared gormless down at the letter in his hand. Only when Ginny asked what was wrong, did he tip the envelope. A single, metal badge fell onto the table.

'Prefect?' breathed Hermione. 'Oh, Ron, me too!'

Everyone's head snapped to her as she held up her own silver pin.

'Well, no surprise there,' said Fred, 'but _Ron?'_

'We thought it would be Harry!' added George. 'I suppose you've been in too much trouble though.'

Cassy watched as Harry's face flickered. His eyes remained fixed on Ron's pin, while his eyebrows twitched down a fraction and his lips rolled inwards just enough to be visible.

'Are you jealous?' she muttered curiously.

Harry turned to her in surprise and then scowled. 'Of course not.' He spoke too quickly.

'You have never expressed a desire to be Prefect before,' she commented, looking back to Ron. Fred and George had begun to make snide remarks, snatching the letter and badge from him, looking most aggrieved their younger brother had taken after Percy in status.

'I am not bitter, Cassy,' said Harry defiantly.

'Personally,' she said lowly, sliding her eyes to him as she faced the others, 'I was expecting Dean to be made Prefect. He always remains within the rules and is popular amongst the students. I am surprised Ron got it.'

Silently, she considered Ron as a Prefect. He had not broken the rules often and although he was hardly a model student in his work ethic, he did not stand out as an abuse of power either. Ron was close to Harry, yet distant enough to not be considered of use to him if anyone were to consider the Gryffindor Prefects, there would be no assumption he was given it in order to protect Harry's interests. If Harry had received it, given the recent articles, Professor Dumbledore would surely be accused of favouritism, allowing anyone who questioned Harry to be deducted points at his own desecration. Cassy did not voice this. She all ready knew by the look on her friend's face that her words about Dean had hit a nerve as intended. It merely proved Harry was jealous, although she was unsure as to why.

When Mrs Weasley came to bid them good-bye before her trip and Fred drew her attention to the badge still clutched in Ron's hand, Harry seemed to sink even more into himself. She gushed, sweeping him into a fierce hug in the knowledge four of her six sons had become prefects. Red with embarrassment, Ron wriggled his way out.

'You've got be have a reward for this! Would you like an owl like Percy? But then, you and Ginny share, so you don't really need one...' rambled Mrs Weasley in excitement.

'Mum, can I maybe have a broom?' asked Ron carefully, hopefully.

Mrs Weasley suddenly stopped moving and her smile became slightly pinched. Broomsticks had never been cheap and the Weasleys were always struggling month after month for money.

'Not a really good one, just a new one for a change. A Cleansweep maybe? There is a new one out that didn't seem so bad, but any, really,' said Ron quickly, trailing off as if awaiting the inevitable 'no' from his mother.

There was a slight pause, but Mrs Weasley smiled and kissed the top of his head. 'Of course you can. I'll have a look when I go to get the books.'

Fred and George jeered a moment more after their mother left the room before apparating back upstairs. It hardly seemed to concern Ron, who brushed Hermione's furious complaints of them aside, eagerly returning to his own room to make room in his trunk for his new broomstick. Harry remained slumped in his chair and Hermione admired her new badge with a look of glee, as if she had thought there was a possibility she might not have received it.

'Congratulations, Hermione,' said Cassy. 'I suppose this means you will stop your excursions with us now then?'

'There will be no excursions to be had,' said Hermione, staring at her sharply with her head still inclined.

'What are you going to do? Take points?' teased Ginny.

'Of course I will if you break the rules,' said Hermione.

'She will have given up by Christmas,' said Cassy flippantly. 'Say, Ginny, do you know if Prefects can take points from themselves?'

'Oh? I haven't thought about it before. I suppose we'll find out,' replied Ginny, her hand going to her chin thoughtfully.

'Absolutely not,' said Hermione flatly. 'Harry, do you mind if I borrow Hedwig? I want to write to my parents. I mean, they don't know a lot about magic, but they'll understand this.'

'Sure!' said Harry, his voice so cheerful and bright it would have been impossible to have discerned it was him if they had not been looking at him. 'Congratulations. It's great, perfect even. You must be happy.'

'Thanks,' said Hermione. She slipped from the room, casting a raised eyebrow at the other girls, who turned back to Harry with varying looks of wariness.

'I'm going to find Sirius,' he said, still terribly cheerful.

The kitchen door shut again. After a few seconds of silence, Cassy sighed. She would rather let him sulk by himself over a matter he had never cared for than to indulge the behaviour. He had expected it and why Cassy was unsure, because it was not as though Harry had ever expressed any interest. He was not even willing to do his homework on time, let alone take charge of extra responsibilities and he certainly had no intention of interacting more than he needed to with people outside of his friendship group. Try as she might, Cassy was incapable of understanding his train of thought just then. Soon, she stopped trying and resumed playing chess in her room with Ginny. Crookshanks sat with them, his yellow eyes watching in fascination as the tiny people rose and tore one another to pieces.

By dinner, Harry appeared to have calmed somewhat. He and Ron had finally finished packing and his voice, much to everyone's relief, had returned to its usual low tones than the sprite cheers of before. Tonks, Remus, Kingsley, Mrs Longbottom, Neville, and even Moody arrived for the meal and Butterbeers were spread between them as everyone arranged themselves in their regular pattern with the exception of Ron and Hermione. Mrs Weasley positioned them side by side, sitting with a large, scarlet banner above on the wall behind reading:

Congratulations

Ron and Hermione

New Prefects

With a blinding white flash, a photograph was taken of the scene. With a low whirring, the camera churned out a polaroid picture, that she flapped in her hands for a moment before beaming down at it warming.

'Straight in the photo album, I think,' she said, pocketing it in the front of her apron. 'I've let your dad and Bill know. They're coming back straight after work.'

Her good mood did not even decline when the arrival of the two Weasleys also brought along one Mundungus Fletcher. She simply waved down another chair from the upstairs dining room and slotted him on the end beside Fred and George, who looked ecstatic to see him again.

'Dumbledore must think you can withstand all the trouble being a figure of authority will bring. Curses and hexes will come flying your way, but if you couldn't withstand them then you wouldn't be appointed,' said Moody, raking his eyes over Ron slowly, looking as though he was trying to re-evaluate him based on this new development.

Ron stared in shock and Hermione nudged him under the table, urging him to reply.

'Ah, Alastor, I have been meaning to ask you,' said Mrs Weasley, pausing to lean on the table with one hand, 'there is something in the drawing room writing desk. I thought it might be a Boggart, but you can never tell with this place.'

Moody's magical eye swivelled upwards for a second, revolving back into his skull before he nodded. 'It is a Boggart. Do you want me to get rid of it, Molly?'

'Oh, no, that's fine. I can do it myself later. I just thought I'd make sure,' she said.

Soon, the food was spread across the table and everyone was reaching over one another to fill their plates. A short cough interrupted and Mr Weasley raised his bottle of Butterbeer, requesting a toast for Ron and Hermione. Drinks were raised and clinked together as everyone repeated their names. Hermione and Ron beamed and soon everyone was back to manoeuvring through arms and bumping elbows in an effort to get at the dish farthest away from them. Cassy, who settled for whatever dishes Tonks snatched and passed to her, had formed a rather strange collection of food on her plate, but considered it a triumph she had managed to get any at all with all of the stabbing forks.

Conversations broke out in tiny pockets all across the table. Tonks, Neville, and his grandmother had begun a curious conversation about Neville's parents being Aurors. Neville's eyes were fixed to Tonks, wanting to hear everything she had to say about the work, while Tonks wanted to know more about them, treading carefully around the formidable matriarch.

Mrs Weasley and Bill were discussing Bill's long hair as she tried once again in vain to persuade him to allow her to cut it. Ginny was unhelpful in aiding her mother, saying Bill looked 'cool' instead.

Hermione and Remus were discussing house-elf rights, while Harry, the twins, and Fletcher seemed to be discussing something beneath their breath, occasionally glancing at the others. Cassy's eyes had long since glazed over as Ron spoke about his broom. She understood very little about them and her interest was so minuscule that she had not absorbed a single word he had said. Sirius, on the other hand, was nodding and discussing the old brooms they had to work with when he played Quidditch.

Not long later, Mrs Weasley let out a large, loud yawn.

'I'm going to go and deal with that Boggart and retire for the night. Arthur, make sure these lot aren't up too late. I don't want any trouble in the morning,' she said, kissing him briefly before leaving.

Cassy turned to Harry, frowning slightly as he eyed the doorway longingly. Fred and George had disappeared at some point and Fletcher had returned to piling his plate with food. Before she could reign in his attention, Moody had shuffled around the table, taking residence in the empty seat beside him. Fletcher choked on his potato, but no one paid him any attention. With a crooked smile, Moody pulled a small, flat object from his inner pocket and held it out to Harry. From the slight flashes of colour on the opposite side, Cassy assumed it to be a photograph. She could not hear their conversation, but Harry did not smile back at him. As Moody pointed repeatedly at the photograph, Harry's expression only became grimmer, until his lips were pressed into a thin white line. It suddenly relaxed as Moody stopped talking, the quiet startling him from whatever thoughts he had delved into. Then, his chair scraped backwards and Harry hurried from the room, still wearing the forced, wonky smile.

Moody did not seem to mind as Sirius called his attention over, curious for the picture, but Cassy did not remain long enough to see if it would be passed around. With a scowl, Cassy traipsed up the stairs after him, planning ahead the words she wanted to use. There was no excuse for Harry's foul mood. He was being jealous for no reason and she wanted to know, to understand, exactly where it had come from. He had been pleasant and jovial in the last few weeks and it had unravelled before she had even had a chance to see it happening. It was no need to be so rude to Moody though.

Cassy's internal rant was cut short as she turned onto the first floor. In the doorway stood Harry, wide-eyed and obviously not sobbing. Silently, Cassy joined him, sparing enough time to glare up at him before eyeing the crying figure warily. She froze. On the floor with her head in her hands was Mrs Weasley. Her shoulders shook heavily, tears slipping between her fingers as a horribly choking erupted from her mouth with every breath. In front of her was Ginny, her eyes glazed and her freckled skin ashen.

Cassy opened her mouth and took a step closer. Ginny was downstairs, she had just seen her in the kitchen, unless she too had slipped from the room when her back was turned.

No, thought Cassy sharply. Ginny was still downstairs and this was a Boggart. It had to be, or else Harry would not be standing so still beside her.

'Mrs Weasley,' she called firmly, 'it is not real. Ginny is fine.'

There was another shaky sob before it cracked again and it was Mr Weasley, his glasses broken and his face mottled with bruises, his shirt coated thickly in blood.

Footsteps sounded behind them and Cassy instinctively moved aside to allow Remus to shoot past her. Sirius darted in after him and Moody strode past, flicking his wand and sending the creature back into the desk where it had come from.

'It was just a Boggart,' cooed Remus softly.

'I – I see them d-dead all the time. All of them, every one of the kids. W-what if Arthur and I am killed? Who will look after Ron and Ginny? Half the family is in the Order and if Fred and George had their way...' Mrs Weasley continued to cry, but she was desperately holding it in, dabbing her eyes with her apron.

'We have a head start this time, Molly, so don't think like that,' said Remus sharply.

'No one will be picked off this time,' said Sirius bitterly. 'And as for Ron and Ginny, we would hardly let them starve. I think their siblings would have an issue if we did. I imagine Bill would cause a storm.' He smiled somewhat and Molly nodded, the edges of her lips lifting crookedly.

'I'm just being silly, that's all,' she said with a sniff.

As they spoke, Harry had backed out of the room and without hesitation Cassy followed him down the hall. A hand rose to his forehead, scrubbing across it roughly.

'What is wrong with you?' asked Cassy. The sudden voice made Harry jumped. He had clearly expected to slip away unnoticed and he was unable to hide the disappointed scowl flickering across his face as he turned.

'Nothing,' he snapped.

'Really? Why are you so angry and why are you rubbing your scar?' she questioned, her own scowl contorting her face.

'None of your business!' he growled. Quickly, he pulled open his bedroom door and slammed it shut behind him. There was no turning of the key, he was unable to lock Ron out for the night after all, it would be easy to barge inside and demand answers, but Cassy did not take another step towards him. Instead, she slammed shut her own door, making sure it was loud enough to rattle their shared wall.

Cassy did not have time to put up with his whining. She did not have the patience. She did not have the will to work through all of the problems whirling through his mind, half of them undoubtedly self-created in some need to feel bitter about his position, when really he should have been relieved he was returning to the castle tomorrow. He had never wanted to be Prefect and he had never wanted to be alone, yet he was managing to feel jealous and alienate everyone all in one move.

It would be simpler if she could spend the rest of her life in solitude, with only her own mind as a companion. At least then she would be ensured good company.

He can come to me about it then, she thought bitterly, spreading her arms wide across her double bed. She sunk into the soft duvet, glaring holes into the white ceiling above. Let him drown in his own thoughts if he wanted to. No one had let her and there would have been nothing she would have liked more than to spend the last six weeks entrapped in her own crushing thoughts, to be swallowed by her own feelings and to never see a smiling face. No one had let her. She was called each time she spent too long out of sight. Keeping busy did nothing but delay the feelings, it pushed them out of mind and out of sight, but when they resurfaced, they were always stronger than before. The only one who seemed to understand was Sirius.

Alphard would not have called her. He would have let her mind herself. If Alphard were alive, she would not have to, a voice repeated over and over again in her mind.

Had Cassy not gone to the Quidditch World Cup last summer then Alphard would have been alive. Except she had. She had gone to see her friends and to be part of a wonderful surprise for the very boy who had just slammed a door in her face and told her to mind her own business. Being kind had achieved nothing at all for her, except an unwavering ache in her bones each morning. It had been just over a year since Alphard had been injured. It had been ten weeks and five days since he had passed.

Cassy's eyes burnt.

A loud knock sounded at her door. Cassy's eyes reached up to her face, her palms digging into her eyes to stop the hot welling within them. The door knocked again. She breathed out a deep breath. A third and final knock rang through. Silence followed and Cassy waited for the footsteps to disappear back down the hall. Her door opened.

Cursing herself inwardly, Cassy quickly sat up. She turned to the door, her expression dangerously flat as she eyed the red-head who popped her head through it.

'Cassy?' asked Ginny. 'Are you all right?'

'I am fine,' said Cassy, her voice calmer and stronger than she felt by far.

'You didn't answer the door,' said Ginny.

'I know,' said Cassy. There was a slight pause. 'Is there something you needed?'

'I was going to ask you if you wanted to play Gobstones with us downstairs,' she said with a slight frown.

'I am really tired, actually. I think I will just get an early night, lest I be irritable on the train tomorrow,' said Cassy, forcing smile that appeared so genuine Ginny was smiling back.

'Yeah, okay. Well, goodnight,' she said, before she closed the door again.

Cassy waited until the sound of her footsteps were completely gone and then rose to turn the key in her door. With a deep sigh, she resumed her position on the bed. Hours passed and she lay there. Silent and unmoving, she stared at the ceiling, staring past it even, as her eyes glazed over and the images in her mind took over her sight. She feared she had stumbled across a dangerous line of thought; one she had tried to avoid for the past few months.

She had never been foolish enough to assume Alphard would be by her side forever, but she had expected a few more years. She had expected him to at least see her become the success he had always told her she was capable of; she had expected him to see her grown and to graduate; she had expected him to be alive long enough to teach her the secrets of the Black family, all of the tricks of the trade and introduce her to the connections that made it all possible all of those years. Yet, expectations were made to be broken. He would not see her graduate, or excel in her career; he would not get to give her a boost in life as promised and he would not get to teach her any more of his little life lessons she had held so dear for so many years. Cassy would have to do it by herself. She would have to work it all out by herself.

Perhaps, she thought as he limbs ached with a desire to finally sleep, that was why she was so excited to be returning to Hogwarts. It was frustrating to be surrounded under constant supervision, told what she could and could not do all the time by people she hardly knew. She had been forced to clean from dawn until dusk each day, spending her waking hours with people who had all shared the same daily experiences. Conversations had often run dry and their presences wore and rubbed roughly against one another from prolonged exposure.

At Hogwarts, she would be over looked. She could work out her own vision, the path that she wanted to take without being ordered from left to right. She could escape those who irritated her in the vast castle landscape and find time for herself amongst the bodies of noisy students. No longer would she be stuck inside day after day, repeating the same chores and actions, the same conversations to the same faces. She would get to work on her future. She would get to work it out and she needed all the time she could give herself to make up for what she had lost, for what she missed more than anything.

As she finally closed her eyes, still in the clothes she had worn that day, Cassy's final thought was that she should invest in a book on Occulmency. It would stop those traitorous thoughts rising and she rather fancied herself her best company at that moment. Besides, she thought, it would make a much needed hobby.

* * *

**I thought Harry was a bit unnecessarily moody over the badges. At no point did he even seem like he cared before Ron got it. Cassy is a bit irritable about it because Harry does become a bit of a nightmare teen in some of these instances. He needs to learn to express things a little more and just admit he's mad at Dumbledore and much of his anger would be gone by Christmas! **

**Thankfully, Cassy's on her way out and back to Hogwarts, but whether that's really a good thing you'll have to find out.**

**Also, the next few chapters need some tweaking. I wrote them in bulk a while ago and reading them back I can't help but ask myself why I thought some of it was a good idea. My characterisation of Cassy went out the window for bits of it and I hate three of the chapters quite a lot. So I need to re-write them. I will try and do it quickly, but they are important ones in the progress of my plotlines. **

**Thanks!**


	8. Broken expectations

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter VIII: Broken expectations**

There was something peculiar, Cassy noted, with her eyes drawn shut. A strange coolness appeared and disappeared from her cheek, a soft _tap tap_ in the otherwise silent surroundings. Her body was warm, more comfortable that she could ever recall feeling in her life, but the pressure on her cheek was becoming annoying. She rolled over and brought the covers higher towards her chin. Although now not as comfortable, she smiled to herself as a weight was pulled away from behind her at her sudden action. There was a blissful second where she expected she might drift back to sleep, before cold, bony little fingers clamped around her nose.

Cassy flailed. She shoved her covers back and bolted upright, shoving the little grey hand from her face.

'Plum!' she reprimanded. 'I asked you to wake me, not suffocate me!'

'That was not Plum's intention, Mistress,' squeaked Plum.

Cassy pursed her lips. 'I told you not to call me "Mistress" either.' She hated the way it sounded. Cassy was always 'Miss', never the head of the House.

'But that is what Mistress is,' said Plum as she wrung her hands uncomfortably.

She sighed deeply. There was no use.

'Mistress, are you getting out of bed?' asked Plum, her hands still contently patting at Cassy's head.

'Not with any delight,' murmured Cassy.

Sighing, she threw the covers to one side and rubbed her palms into her blurry eyes. Of all the days her mind decided it was going to be quiet and allow her to sleep in late, it had to be the one she was required to wake early. There was no rush in her movements as she dressed or tied back her hair. Although it was all ready half-seven, there was no doubt that the Weasley children would not stir for quiet some while and Mrs Weasley would be only beginning to cook breakfast, having left it late again as she apparently did every year. Ginny had explained they had always been rushing for as far as she could remember, her mother never quite grasped managing seven children at once; Cassy considered it a cause for congratulations that she had never let them miss the train with that many noisy, head-strong children that made up the Weasley family to conduct.

She put on a simple green dress, intending to change the moment they were on the train to avoid the late rush of bodies, and tied her black brogues she wore with her uniform as to prevent having to scavenge in her trunk later on.

The leather trunk was left at the top of the staircase. Walburga was all ready grumbling as Cassy passed, as though she could sense the riot that was only a matter of time. Down in the kitchen, steam filled the windowless room and an assortment of delicious smells wafted up into the hall. Mrs Weasley fluttered around the stove with more pans than hands. Sausages sizzled and pancakes were stacked high on the side. Mr Weasley and Remus were engaged in a discussion of the rout to take later that morning, although Tonks looked as though she should have been involved, her nose was inches from her breakfast as she spooned porridge into her open mouth and her eyes were fixed on the back of the absurdly widely opened paper.

Behind that paper was Sirius, who only peered around the edges when Cassy pulled out the seat beside him.

'Morning,' he said, rather glumly.

'Good morning,' she replied.

'M'n'ng,' came Tonks' slurred greeting.

'Charming,' said Cassy.

Tonks smiled up at her cheekily.

Long after she had finished her meal, Cassy remained in the kitchen. Maps had been extracted and a fraction of the Order of the Phoenix stood around them, directing the pathways the teens would take to the station with the utmost care. It was imperative that no one supposed their divisions and their paths peculiar, but also that they were short and contained as to minimise potential open threats. The seven of them were to be split and divided amongst the Order members.

Just as Cassy memorised each rout they were divided into – herself with just Hermione – Mrs Weasley turned to her sharply. Quickly, Cassy ducked her head down to the newspaper and pretended to be reading the weather forecast interestedly. There was no reprimand for being present during their supposedly secret plans, but rather a flustered flutter and the crinkling of cloth as she wiped her hands hurriedly on her apron.

'Cassy, can you go and wake everyone? They should have been up an hour ago!' fretted Mrs Weasley.

'Of course, Mrs Weasley,' said Cassy.

The faint grumblings of Walburga continued to sound as Cassy sauntered by her portrait once more. She turned off at the first floor, passing Harry and Ron's room and knocked loudly on a bare, ornate door. Behind it, there was a soft grunt and the swish of bedsheets. Bare feet padded across the wooden floor to the door and a messy head of brown hair slipped into view.

'Is it time to get up?' asked Hermione as she rubbed her blurry eyes. 'What time is it?'

'Quarter-to-ten.'

'Oh, all ri – what? What do you mean it's quarter-to-ten!' shrieked Hermione.

'What?' sounded the alarmed voice of Ginny from behind the door. 'I haven't finished packing!'

'You said you'd done it last night,' retorted Hermione.

'Yeah, well...'

The door was slammed shut. Blinking and with a mildly amused glint in her eyes, Cassy turned on her heals and walked back down the hall. Again, she walked straight by the door beside her own.

Fred and George were not as easily awakened as Hermione and Ginny. As loudly as she knocked, there was no reply. There was no call of vague acknowledgement, or even a grunt or the rustling of sheets as they stirred at the sound. After debating the dangers, Cassy turned to nob and threw open the door loudly into the stack of boxes behind. There was a sharp yell and Fred slipped of the bed

'Bloody hell, Woman!' gasped George, sitting stiffly upright in shock.

Cassy caught the swinging door on the way back to her and poked her head slightly further into the room. 'Your mother wants you up. The train leaves in an hour.'

'You could have just knocked,' said Fred from the floor.

Cassy cast him a disdainful frown and swept the door shut. It was only after a leisurely descent and having strained her ears to listen to Sirius and Mrs Weasley bicker loudly in the kitchen two floors below, did Cassy bother to wake up the last sleeping occupants of the house.

After having loitered in the hall for five-minutes with half-hearted knocks as her attempt to wake the boys, Hermione emerged further down the hall, toothbrush in hand.

'Are they still not up?' she asked.

'Terrible, aren't they?' said Cassy flatly.

Hermione's knuckles rapt loudly against the door. She called through, 'We're leaving in a bit. You'll miss breakfast.'

There was a thud on the other side.

'Well, Ron's up,' said Hermione, her eyebrows raised high. She turned to leave just as the door was pulled open and Harry's dishevelled self almost knocked the girls flying.

'Why did no one wake us up?' he asked quickly.

'Cassy tried,' offered Hermione.

'I tried my absolute hardest,' agreed Cassy flatly and lowly, with half-lidded eyes.

Hermione turned to her suspiciously, but Cassy paid her no mind.

'We leave in ten minutes,' she said spiritedly and patted Harry's arm. She smiled widely as his eyes opened in groggy alarm and Cassy slipped back into her own room next door.

She scanned the shelves quickly and took one last look under her bed for anything that might have been forgotten. It was only when she went to collect Crin's cage did she take notice of the green and gold clown on the mantelpiece. Narcissa had brought it for her. It sat beside the carved dog her father had brought her the year before, and next to the flowering plant she had taken from her living room in Canterbury. Cassy slowly took the plant as she eyed the clown gingerly. She had not paid it much attention all summer, having chosen to partially hide it behind a framed photo instead. Her anger at Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco had not faded much, if any in the weeks that followed. If anything, she might have considered herself to be angrier as time continued.

The idea of having to speak with Draco was the only dampener on her good spirit at finally escaping Grimmauld Place. She had thought over what she wanted to say many times all ready, each having descended into some sort of insult towards the end, if not from her then towards her; she had never been so uncertain that he would not want to hear what she had to say as she was then.

The little plant was placed at the bottom of Crin's cage for lack of a better storage option and Cassy turned to her giant, grey owl with an expectant expression. Crin stared back, his eyes half-lidded and his toes wrapped tightly around the back of her chair.

'Crin, in, please,' asked Cassy.

Crin stared.

'If you do not come with me then I will be forced to give all my letters to Pigwidgeon to carry,' she said.

Crin clicked his beak and reluctantly fluttered into his carrier, after casting Cassy a particularly loathsome look.

Cassy stuck several treats through the bars of the cage, but Crin merely turned his back to her, making it very clear how offended he was by her comment. She rolled her eyes, 'Stubborn owl.'

When Cassy sauntered back into the hall, scraping and scrambling could be heard in the room next door as Harry and Ron rushed to collect their things. Sirius stood at the top of the stairs, shifting the trunk Cassy had left their in his arms.

'All right there, Sirius? Need a hand?' called Remus' voice from downstairs.

Sirius turned with a scowl. 'Muscle atrophy had not got me yet,' he said and lifted the trunk higher over his head. He wobbled violently and dropped it back down to the floor, barely catching himself before he slipped down the stairs.

'Sirius!' cried Mrs Weasley. 'Honestly!'

Remus' laughter echoed up and Cassy passed her father to hurry downstairs before he tried to lift her belongings again.

'Awh, Molly, I didn't know you cared,' called Sirius gleefully, a wide grin on his face.

'If you ruin the shelves after I've just arranged them I'll have your head,' said Mrs Weasley.

Sirius and Remus laughed loudly. Mrs Weasley turned her head with her own playful smile on her lips and Sirius heaved the trunk up once again, carefully to avoid the shelves set deep into the walls along the way. He set the case down and flexed his arms as he looked towards Cassy.

'What have you got in there? Bricks?'

'Not as strong as you think?' asked Cassy, smirking.

'I am plenty strong enough! I was a Beater on the Gryffindor team from my third-year onwards. I used to be really fit when I was young. I am just not built to be scrawny – unlike James, who only started growing when he was sixteen,' he said, as if that settled everything.

Cassy's eyebrows dipped a fraction as she inwardly debated admitting she knew as well as he did that he was designed to be as willowy in build as she was, no matter what he might want others to believe.

Hermione and Ginny appeared on the top of the stairs, both looking rushed with their dishevelled hair. The cardigan around Ginny's waist was even inside out. In one hand each they dragged their trunks and in the other they held the carriers of Crookshanks and Pigwidgeon respectively. The heavy trunks pulled across the wooden floor, scraping and creaking with each exertion to navigate the maze of littered artefacts that still lined the hall. Sirius moved to help them, glancing sideways at Cassy as he managed both trunks with what almost looked like grace this time. She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms.

'We are not built to be physically powerful,' she maintained.

Sirius ignored her pointed stare. 'Speak for yourself. Black's are usually physically imposing, then there is you with your tiny height,' he huffed carting the luggage past her and out of the way of the door.

'Is there something wrong with being short?' asked Ginny, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. Equally matched, she and Cassy were the same height, whereas Luna was an inch or so taller and Hermione taller than her. She gave a pointed stare down at Sirius, who waved his hand flippantly.

'No need to get offended, I am sure short people have done great things to,' he said teasingly.

Ginny opened her mouth to retort when two thunderous bangs sounded from above. There was another and another and everyone turned to eye the top of the stairs as the sound drew closer with each thud. Two large trunks flew into sight, flinging themselves around the corner of the second staircase and straight towards the front door.

'Ginny, mo-' began Hermione sharply, but she was too slow. The trunks crashed into Ginny's chest, sending her tumbling backwards down the stairs. Noisily, she landed at the bottom by Hermione's feet, the cases laid haphazardly over her as she groaned lowly.

In an instant, Hermione had ducked to pull her free and Cassy appeared at her side to heave the trunks out of the way. Sirius crouched in front of her.

'Are you all right?' he asked, his hand following hers to grope at the back of her head. When Ginny hissed, he edged his way around Hermione to weave his hands through her red hair, humming as he inspected.

'Fred, George! For goodness sake, you do not need to use your wands for everything!' sounded Mrs Weasley's shriek from the top floor. Walburga's portrait became to groan at the sound, but everyone ignored it. Just as Fred and George appeared at the top of the staircase, so did Mrs Weasley. The pair had no time to retreat at the sight, for she had gripped their ears very tightly while her face began to colour. 'You could have – Ginny! What – did you two knock your sister down the stairs!' It was not a question, although it sounded like one. There was a dangerous bite in Mrs Weasley's voice that dared anyone to disagree, warning them of a building wrath behind her usually warm brown eyes.

Fred and George let out identical cries before she let go, their hands flung to their offended red-raw ears. Mrs Weasley did not so much as glance back at them and instead bustled to Ginny's side where her face crumpled into concern as though she had never been angry.

'She's not bleeding, although she did hit her head,' said Sirius, standing quickly.

'Oh, thank-you, Sirius,' said Mrs Weasley warmly.

He stared in surprise at her affectionate tone and before he could do something to persuade her otherwise he retreated back to the pile of luggage to heave the twins' things into place.

The kitchen door opened and numerous bodies piled out. The entrance hall was beginning to get crowded, as Moody, Tonks, Remus, and Mr Weasley filed their way to the front door. Tonks raised her eyebrows at the scene and grinned at Cassy.

'Nothing like a bit of mayhem to begin the school year, ay?' she joked. 'How are you feeling?'

'Fine,' said Cassy honestly. 'I am looking forward to returning.'

'Good, good. The first week is always the best of fifth-year because the teachers assume you can't remember anything from the last year, so you get less difficult homework. Then that will pick up and you will slowly be consumed by work. Not a nice year, fifth-year,' said Tonks fondly.

Cassy stared at her with her eyes half-narrowed, unsure exactly how to interpret the conflicting tone and message.

'I want you to write to me and whatever if anything is wrong and if anyone gives you trouble then you should give them hell, okay?' Tonks was both frowning and smiling formidably, her fist was raised and shaking slightly, as if threatening the imaginary children.

Cassy huffed a laugh and Mrs Weasley looked up at the pair of them in disapproval. 'That isn't good advice, Tonks.'

Tonks shrugged. 'It's fine. This way I get to be the cool guardian, right?' She winked at Cassy and Ginny burst into a fit of giggles while her mother sighed heavily.

'Boys, hurry up we need to leave!' called Mrs Weasley, still shaking her head.

Although it could have been considered counter-productive – and on any other day Cassy would have indeed thought so – she took great enjoyment from watching Harry run down the stairs in panic. He had haphazardly dressed, pausing on the stairs to shove his feet into his all ready laced-up trainers; Ron stopped just behind him and put his hand on Harry's back as an impromptu support so he could fasten his own shoes.

Satisfied with the alarm on his face, his crumpled clothing, and his ridiculously dishevelled hair, Cassy felt her irritation at his actions the previous day melt away.

'For goodness sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!' cried Mrs Weasley. Her voice was so sharp that Harry and Ron jumped and almost slipped down the remaining steps.

Noisily, a large, black dog clambered over the luggage. He let out a long warble, his tail thumping as he sat himself at the bottom of the stairs nearest to Harry.

'Fine!' huffed Mrs Weasley. 'Do as you please.'

Cassy gave Sirius a restrained smile as he turned to her, careful not to let Mrs Weasley see it. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth in the closest thing to a grin a dog could give. Her eyes glittered with internal laugher and Sirius' tail beat harder on the floor with excitement to leave.

Tonks placed her hand on Cassy's shoulder. 'We better get a move on. All right, you and Hermione are coming with me. If anyone asks, Hermione, you've been spending the last week with us. We'll split up and take the rout closest to home and meet everyone at the station. We should be the last ones there.'

'Keep an eye out, Kid,' instructed Moody with a short nod.

'Will do, Mad-Eye,' replied Tonks. She seized Crin's cage and Crookshank's basket awkwardly in one hand and ushered Cassy and Hermione out the door at long last.

Cassy breathed the warm September air in. It was not the same having to feel the warmth in the beams of light that stretched across the dark stained floors, or to have the chill of a welcomed breeze trail softly in through an open window. She never expected to miss the outdoors, always having enjoyed being cooped inside thoughts whirling from old books and maps, but after two months of not having left the squalid house of her ancestors, she could think of nothing better.

'It's bad when the air of London is probably cleaner than in the house,' said Hermione, only half joking.

The luggage was left in the house for Moody to transport and they were thankful it was. The streets were bustling on the late Sunday morning. Muggles filled the streets, their cars barely stopping for the red traffic lights and their bags swinging dangerously on the paths as everyone rushed to the nearest underground entrance. It would have been impossible to navigate with their large trunks. Their unusual pets had all ready acquired more than a few strange looks.

Cassy carried Crin's cage in her arms, it being too large to hang from her lowered hands without scraping the floor. His narrowed eyes stared in loathing up at her, but she paid him no attention. Instead, she stared in false interest at the shops they passed, pointedly avoiding Hermione's searching stare.

Eventually, when Cassy had managed to glaze over her obvious silent call for attention, Hermione sighed and spoke anyway. 'Are you and _him_ fighting?'

'No,' responded Cassy lightly.

'We heard the doors slam last night,' continued Hermione. 'That's why we asked you to play a game with us. We thought you had a fight.'

'We are fine,' said Cassy truthfully. Her anger was gone all ready and as long as Harry did not sink into bitterness on the train then she did not expect it to return. 'I was just a bit vexed.'

'Well, as long as you're all right now. No one likes it when you two fight,' said Hermione with a smile.

Cassy smiled back.

'Did you find out why he was so weird though?'

'No, he was just being a prat,' said Cassy.

'I'm sure he'll sort himself out soon. He will probably be back to his old self once he's out of _there_,' joined Tonks, keeping as ambiguous as possible in case of listening ears. 'He just needs some good friends. Stick together and you guys will be fine.'

At the platform, they met the Weasleys. Mr Weasley's eyes were fixed on a spot some distance away, where a large trolley of trunks was being wheeled to the end of the train. As Cassy craned her neck to see where Moody was going, she spotted the lanky frame of Harry, with an old woman and Mrs Weasley by his side some distance onwards. Remus had spotted them too, waving to Arthur and ushering the teens down the platform through the throng of bubbly students.

As they got closer, a bark sounded and Sirius sat beside Harry with his tail thumping again. Several school children had turned to comment on the giant, bear-like dog and he was repaying their curiosity well with his attention. The children cooed. Mrs Weasley rolled her eyes when several of the students complimented Harry on his dog.

Tonks sneaked up beside Cassy and wrapped her arm around her in a short side hug.

'I'll see you soon, remember what I said, all right? I have to go. I'm technically on a work break to be here. Can't be too suspicious now,' she whispered.

Cassy nodded and smiled. She waved as Tonks quickly excused herself, sinking into the crowd and vanishing as her features morphed unrecognisably amongst the oncoming families.

'Sturgis is almost becoming as unreliable as Mundungus,' muttered Moody.

The train whistle blew loudly. Students began to push forward towards the doors and the sounds of calling parents and shrieking siblings filled the platform. A blunt force hit Cassy's hip. She looked down expecting it to be a child who had been looking the other way as they ran, but instead she stared into the grey eyes of her father's dog form. He barked, clawing at her leg.

'Yes, yes,' she said with a smile. 'Goodbye, I expect I will see you at Christmas.'

He barked again and jumped at her, almost knocking her to the ground as his massive paws lay against her shoulders. He retreated, nearly flattening a passing child before jumping at an unsuspecting Harry. Mrs Weasley sharply tried to pull Harry away, but Sirius had none of it and Harry did not look too concerned, laughing loudly instead.

With a glance over to Hermione, Cassy nodded her head towards the train. Waving goodbye to Mr and Mrs Weasley, Cassy and Hermione boarded the train. They were certain the others would find them, they just had to find Neville and Luna, the former of whom had promised to secure seats at the back of the train; out of sight, out of mind, with any luck for the year ahead and not just the train.

Behind them, Cassy could faintly hear the high, piecing sounds of Pigwidgeon squawking in excitement. A short glance over her shoulder showed her and Harry to be only a few students behind. She almost walked into the back of Hermione when the other stopped suddenly to open a compartment door. Neville rose quickly to slide open the door as Hermione wrestled with Crookshanks' basket. Luna scooted across on the seat to make way for their luggage to be passed overhead, a small cage of her own on her lap.

'Is that Venus?' asked Cassy, sitting opposite her.

'Yes,' said Luna fondly, sticking her finger between the bars. 'She is quite upset about travelling. Does Crin become like that?'

'Crin is always unimpressed,' said Cassy flatly.

'I didn't know you had a new owl, Luna,' said Hermione, seating herself beside Cassy.

'Well, I did not expect you to answer a letter if I sent one,' said Luna, her tone pleasant, but her words terribly frank.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, appearing mildly offended, when the compartment door opened again. Ginny poked her head in first, then dropped herself down beside Luna before she gave her a sideways embrace. Hedwig and Pigwidgeon were soon wedged into the racks above and Harry shut the door. As he turned to sit, he paused. A grin broke across his face.

A loud bark sounded from outside their window. Two large paws scraped on the windowsill and a joyful looking face appeared, his muzzle against the glass, casting great steamed circles from his warm breath.

Cassy waved and Harry beamed. Laughter echoed through the compartment as the train began to move. The paws fell from the ledge and the dog began to sprint, weaving through the on looking parents. The slowly blurring faces of those on the platform were full of mirth at the site of the huge dog running alongside the train; then he vanished as the platform was suddenly cut short and the grey streets of London replaced it.

'He's in a good mood today,' said Neville with a smile.

Cassy was not so certain he was in reality, but she did not comment.

Conversation soon erupted over what they had been doing in the time Neville had missed and, although very patchy and out of any sense of time order, Harry, Neville, and Ginny began to fill Luna in on what she had missed altogether. There was much to tell her and she listened curiously, not at all put out by the converging voices. They only paused to bid good-bye to Hermione as she excused herself in favour of the prefect compartment.

Out of the window, shops began to give way the houses, then to trees and parks between larger, more distinct homes with large gardens and long driveways. It was not long before London had vanished all together.

Slowly, Cassy began to withdraw. A steady, dull pulsating had begun behinds her eyes. Tiredly, she rubbed them. As conversation moved onto Luna's father's latest articles in _The Quibbler, _laughter rang through her ears, grating and winding her tired bones in knots. Her eyes slipped shut, her head on the palm of her hand. If she tried hard enough, she could almost block out the world. The trundling train did nothing to energise her, if anything she merely felt more inclined to curl up and sleep. The rest she had missed last night, and many nights before it for many weeks as her mind bled itself dry with repetitive thought, had finally caught up with her. She considered sleeping for a time, if only she had the ability to sleep with the knowledge of curious eyes and telling conversation. Despite her doubts, Cassy's eyes began to grow heavier. Then, the compartment door opened.

Her eyes snapped open. She only turned her head half-way, eyeing the unwelcome visitor with a flat stare. Only, the visitor was not so unwelcome to everyone else. Standing there with a small, shy smile and glistening black eyes was Cho Chang. Her eyes were fixed firmly on Harry.

Any remaining happiness in Cassy died.

'Excuse me,' said Cassy abruptly. She moved from her seat, grabbed her robes from her trunk, and slipped out of the door before anyone could comprehend she had spoken. Seeing Harry lose his wit over a girl was not high on her priorities that day; no amount of sleep on the train would cure the unjust jealousy that would blossom and no glittering green eyes would subdue her into gentle concession from it either. Instead, there was something that required urgent attention. Her time could be better used than to wind herself up over a girl who had done nothing to warrant her dislike. No small amount of glee bubbled in her stomach, a wild anticipation that could only be born through weeks of waiting, of planning meticulously each and every word. It was the worst time to broach the subject, but an excuse to leave the compartment none the less. She was restless and tired. It was not the moment for diplomatic conversation, but then Cassy found she did not want one. The expectations of past weeks shattered and crumbled effortlessly, giving way to an emotional and sharp-tongued desire to speak. She wanted to speak and make him listen, and she wanted to listen and make him speak, whether he wanted to or not. She was too close to him now to practise the words she had gathered at such an impersonal distance.

Cassy's sharp, steel-blue eyes raked over each and every compartment. The longer she walked, the more a small voice in the back of her mind told her it was ridiculous and that she should wait until school. Each time that voice spoke up, a louder, darker, more _Black_ voice told her it was her right and she should have it on her terms. Compartment after compartment was filled with unfamiliar faces. On occasion, there was one that she knew she recognised in passing, but the white-blond hair she was combing the student body for was nowhere to be seen.

Silently, she slipped into one of the many toilets on the long steam train. Her casual clothing was exchanged for her school uniform, the others stuffed into the satchel she had slipped her uniform into for ease of transport the night before. When she exited, the corridor of the train was still largely empty, the muffled sounds of excited conversations leaking through the doors, except there was a small gaggle of awkwardly tall boys and eagerly conversing girls. Amongst them were Hermione and Ron, the latter of whom stood taller than the rest with boredom smeared across his freckled face. Behind him was Draco.

Striding, Cassy approached with a blank, controlled face. Hermione spotted her first, but Cassy slipped by, clutching Draco's arm tightly. She pulled him further up the train, ignoring his disgruntled mutterings. He did not resist. Behind her, Pansy Parkinson was calling something in a shrill, teasing tone and Hermione's chilled laughter followed it; Cassy did not have time to watch the fight break out, although she thought she would have dearly loved to. Instead, when they were far enough up the train, almost outside the conductor's door, she released Draco.

He stared down at her with a scowl.

'Prefect, I see,' she said, eyeing the shining green badge on his chest.

'I see you are not,' he drawled.

'I suppose there were people just better suited, Malfoy,' she suggested curtly. Her tone remained even and polite.

Draco's nose crinkled a bit further. 'Has it come to that now?'

'Well, you have always called me "Black" in front of others,' she said lightly, as if offering to pour an acquaintance a drink at work.

'That never really mattered, did it? You never bothered to keep our association low,' he scoffed.

There was a pregnant pause. The wheels of the train could be heard churning and the whistle blew loudly. It was far louder at the front of the train. Even the smoke from the chimneys fluttered down in thick wisps, trailing their pale tendrils past the nearest windows. It almost seemed as if the two of them were alone.

'Why did you not attend Alphard's funeral?' asked Cassy quietly. Her voice was soft, barely audible against the rumbling of the train

'Why did you not invite me?' retorted Draco.

There was a slight pause before a loud 'Pardon?' rang down the corridor. Cassy's voice forgot the sudden vulnerability it had unwillingly adopted and returned back to the tone of fury that had circled her head since she had awoke.

How dare he? She thought. How could he think that?

'Even if I was furious, if I had had the desire to string you from the top of the Astronomy Tower by your ankles, I still would have invited you!' she growled. She did not shout. Her voice dipped dangerously low and she stepped forward, her nose almost against Draco's chin as he refused to back away; his own face twisted into an incredulous scowl. 'I was angry and upset at the end of last year, but how can you think I would be so petty as to deprive you of your uncle's funeral? Do not try and blame me, Draco. You chose not to attend, you and your damned parents. You failed to attend the final farewell of a man who helped raise you for fourteen-years and for what? Because Alphard did not give your mother custody of me?'

'What the hell are you talking about?' snapped Draco. 'You were the one who refused to live with us, even after my father agreed to sort it all out for you. You said you would rather live with that stupid half-blood than us.'

'Lucius never said any such thing,' she said, setting her jaw. 'In case you have forgotten, I am also a half-blood.'

'You are not a half-blood who wanders around with bright pink hair! Anyway, what do you mean he didn't offer? Of course he did. You said no,' said Draco, almost spitting the last sentence as he lurched forward.

Cassy did not back away and the pair stood almost nose to nose.

'I have not seen your father since the World Cup last year,' she said icily. Inwardly, she thinks that she would have said no if offered, but that was a conversation for another time.

'That's not what my mother said. She said you told us to stay away, just like how you avoided me at the end of last year. Do you not think I wanted to see if you were all right? To speak about Alphard? He was my uncle too, Cassy! You avoided me and you did not even invite us to the funeral. I suppose you think you have it all with your Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors. You have never been the same since you started hanging out with Potter,' hissed Draco. 'You chose them over your own family. Mother told me all about your letter, telling her what a coward you thought my father is and how pathetic she is for staying with a man like him, you said you would stay with her, if not for him. You have never liked him, but you crossed a line. I have tried to overlook your _weird_ collection of friends, but I cannot any more. You have changed, become disgusting and I cannot even recognise you anymore. Family always meant so much to you, but I suppose you have found your place with the misfits and the filth. You picked your side.'

There was no immediate reaction from Cassy. She stared, eyes wide and mouth slightly open from where she had attempted to cut him off early. No sound had left her mouth as the words tumbled from his, full of spite and loathing, full of lies.

'Narcissa said that?' she asked weakly. She no longer cared for her tone. All Cassy cared for was squashing down the devastation that was flooding her body from head to toe, gripping her heart and drowning her brain, making her unable to move and unable to speak. Her voice refused to crack further. 'I sent four invitations, one after another when there was no reply. I wanted you to be there, I wanted – I wanted to have someone there that understood, that I could speak to. I did not care for the differences between Alphard and Narcissa! I wanted her there! I wrote to her, but she never wrote back. Not once.'

Cassy cursed herself. Colours of the wall beside her cousin's head threatened to blur together, to become indistinguishable as hot tears rose in her eyes. All the anger she had felt, the rage and the pain of the past weeks that had been allowed to grow and to blossom into hateful little thoughts relished the news. She blinked tightly. She would not cry.

'I kept three seats spare at the front of the cremation for you, just in case you were going to show. I had hoped that perhaps the letter got lost, that you were going to appear and I kept looking, hoping – but I was so _stupid_, so _idiotic_ to ever think that I ever meant more to the Malfoys than the ward of Alphard. If I had been younger, or the circumstances different, your parents would have left me to starve on the streets. You are right, I have picked a side. I picked the people who actually _care for me._'

There was only a split second where Cassy dared to glance beyond Draco's eyes and at the rest of his face. Her mind told her he was stricken, almost distraught, but then the analysis was smothered by a bitter internal laugh. He was surely smug. He must have loved to see her so overcome. She pushed away harshly, swinging both her hands into his chest and shoving him against the wall. Stumbling, she turned quickly, her head ducked low and away from any potential eyes of the students in the compartments. Her feet carried her quickly – but not running, Cassy refused to give Draco the satisfaction – to the nearest toilet. It was fortunately unlocked.

The door was slammed shut. Watery rimmed eyes stared back in the mirror from the effort not to cry, the rich blue of her irises so much brighter, as if set ablaze by the rawness of her surrounding skin.

'You will not cry. You _will not_ cry, Cassiopeia,' she repeated to herself.

She would not break down over it, she did not cry more than a single tear at Alphard's funeral, she had refused to at the sight of so many strangers and she would not do so now. Slowly, she sunk down onto the close toilet lid.

An impatient knock sounded at the door.

She rarely cried as a child. The thought of being scorned by the Malfoys when she had been sorted into Gryffindor had alarmed her, scared her, even, but she had never cried about it. Yet, Draco's words cut deeper than anything she had heard before and Cassy was unsure of why she felt to fragile; she simply cared too much. She frowned. She did care too much. If she could bear the thought of living without them at eleven, then at almost sixteen-years-old she should have no doubts. A strength swelled inside her once more and her mourning was pushed aside in favour of the growing resentment in a distant part of her heart. She cared because they were the only family she had left, her prior strength drawn from knowing Alphard would always have her back. While he was gone, she did have new family. Cassy had Sirius and Tonks, who had proven to care for her more in their short times in her lives than the Malfoys had in a long time. She did not need them. She refused to let herself think she ever needed them.

'Draco,' she whispered between her fingers, still damp from tears. Draco still had a chance. He could be persuaded otherwise, surely, she reasoned. Narcissa and Lucius might hate her because she chose to move against them in the oncoming war, but Draco was not one of Voldemort's followers. He still had a chance to be different. He was repeating what he had been told alone.

Does he really have a chance? Questioned the more rational side of her brain. He had been certain of what he had said, lies or not. It hardly seemed possible to compete with the adoration he held for his parents. Their word was law. It always had been.

Cassy rubbed her face tiredly. She had expected the conversation to be different. She thought he might blurt a sorrowful apology at best, or a vexed demand to know why she had avoided him last year, and perhaps anything in-between, but she had not expected him to accuse her of not caring. She was truly the idiot now. It would have been better to listen to the voice in the back of her mind that demanded she rethink her timing. The other side of her opinion, that waiting would merely be delaying it, which had shrunk back in her mind resurfaced with renewed vigour; there was no point in waiting because the outcome would be the same. Draco was disgusted with her for the lies his parents had fed him. A week of waiting would not change that.

As yet another pair of feet moved away from the door, Cassy breathed out deeply. As much as she may have wanted to, she knew she could not remain locked away forever. She needed something else to think about, she needed to return to her friends and discard what had happened. The hardest part was over, she assured herself firmly, she had struggled for a time all ready without the Malfoys. It was merely reaffirmed that they were gone.

Running her hands over her face one more time, Cassy finally exited the bathroom and made her way back to the end of the train. Her head was held high as she entered the compartment. She did not look at anyone as she sat gracefully, folding her skirt neatly beneath her.

'Are you all right?' asked Harry immediately.

Cassy turned to him and nodded, but he looked utterly unconvinced.

'Hermione said you went somewhere with Malfoy and you've been gone ages,' he said. 'We even looked for you, but we couldn't see you anywhere.'

'I was just speaking to a few people,' she lied as her mind added it was unhealthy to class herself as another person in a conversation.

'He's upset you,' he said with a scowl.

'I am fine,' she said, sharper this time.

'No, you're not,' insisted Harry.

'Harry, she looks fine. Stop looking for a fight,' interjected Hermione.

Harry drew his lips together. His eyes remained focused on Cassy's face as she turned to the window. She wondered how he knew she was upset. She reasoned that perhaps her face was slightly forlorn, or like Hermione had suggested, he was merely looking for an excuse to curse Draco. She did not put much more thought into it, losing herself in the rolling countryside as the scarlet train crossed into Yorkshire.

A sharp breath was sucked in and for a second, Cassy waited for Harry to renew the conversation, but before anyone had a chance to speak the compartment door opened once more. In the reflection on the window a dark-skinned boy stood. One hand lingered on the door while the other was on his hip. Slowly, Cassy turned. His coal eyes were focused on her. He had not even bothered surveying the others.

'A word, Black?' he asked.

Everyone's faces scrunched at his request. Ginny mumbled and Harry looked as if he was biting back a remark, yet Cassy silenced them both when she stood with a nod. Her face eased purposefully and only then did she realise how tense it had been. She did with same with her shoulders, slumping them into what she hoped no longer made her appear defensive. Then, she turned her head coolly towards Blaise Zambini as the door drew to.

'Zambini,' she said in a curt greeting.

'My mother asked that I thank you for the wedding gift you sent. She thought it was very witty. Did you know the plant you sent symbolises both wealth and misfortune?' he asked, his voice deep and his eyes glazed with only mild interest.

'Oh, did it?' she asked in false surprise. 'How terrible.'

'Indeed. Who would want to wish that upon a newly married couple?' he said. 'I want to know why you sent a gift at all.'

It was not a request. Cassy did not bat an eyelid at the bluntness. 'It is customary to send families gifts on such momentous occasions, especially something as grand as a seventh wedding.'

'I did not think you were particularly one for tradition,' he remarked, bored.

'If you have got that impression from Draco, then I assure you he is filled with lies.' A bitter smile twisted her lips into a rare smile of the day. If she had read Zambini correctly, a flash of interest had flickered over his handsome face for just an instant. He was as perceptive as she had imagined and she was glad she had not changed her familial referral to Draco to a curt surname, or they would be the talk of Slytherin before dinner.

'You abide by some traditions then?'

'Some,' agreed Cassy.

He let out a short hum. 'Thank-you again for my mother's present. Here is hoping her new marriage goes... well.'

'The best to her,' said Cassy amicably.

As she stared at his retreating back, Cassy could not help but feel a flicker of warmth in her stomach. The cold sadness ebbed away to make room for a tiny sense of triumph. Zambini did not hold much stock in anyone as a rule, no matter what the blood-type, or the company they held, but he had even less patience for Blood-Traitors and those who went against custom. Cassy supposed she did not fall into the former category, being only half-blood and perhaps that was what had seen the delightful exchange come to life. He did not expect too much from her and now he was pleasantly surprised. If only Cassy could work on making wider connections, she thought she might have a chance at building her very own successful network from inside school out. Suddenly, she felt more confident than ever.

* * *

**So almost at Hogwarts now! It took a while, but the year is starting at last. A bit of conflict for Cassy to deal with while trying to build up her own reputation within her peers now. The ball is finally rolling on her power base to set her future, although I might be afraid she has chosen the worst year to try it! **

**Her fights with Draco have finally progressed beyond a squabble, too. It was quite difficult to write, because Cassy is supposed to be a strong character and I think it would undeniably destroy her if her family turned against her. She's trying to hold it together though, but whether that is for better or worse, you will have to read to find out!**

**I appreciate the reviews so far. I am glad so many people have stuck with me.**

**Thanks!**


	9. A war without weapons

C. M. Black: Eyes on an Owl

**Chapter IX: A war without weapons**

Despite the darkness, there was an obvious absence on the platform that the group could not help but notice. There was no great imposing figure with a lantern by his side, a loud voice booming for the tiny first years to gather round and make their way to the age old boats that would take them across the water to the castle. What was there was a smaller, slimmer figure. The lantern was equally as bright yet harder to see some five feet closer to the ground. The first years peered around nervously, grouped together around the scarred woman that had waved them over.

'Where's Hagrid? Why is Grubbly-Plank here?' asked Harry, craning to see farther down the platform.

There was no sight of Hagrid anywhere. Professor Grubbly-Plank brushed away Harry's enquiry as coolly as she had the year before when he had taken leave. There was something ominous in his absence. The last Cassy had heard he had been sent on business for Professor Dumbledore. Surely the plan would have been for him to return by now; the curiosity that would gather amongst staff would be containable, but a nuisance. Cassy doubted many of the students would even care that he was gone, having witnessed the excitement at the change of staff the year before. Yet, the Ministry would notice. The Ministry would be watching and Professor Dumbledore must have known that, so it still left Cassy with the hanging question of where their half-giant friend had vanished to if he was yet to return.

Harry was visibly disgruntled as they walked towards the carriages. Always, since their first year, he had been keen on visiting Hagrid in the first weeks of school to catch up on the time missed in their summer apart. It was most likely one of the things he had been looking forward to most about returning, speculated Cassy as she stared at the back of his head. Seeing a friend was the small twinkling of light in what otherwise promised to be a sullen and tedious year of staring and taunting of lies and death. Hagrid always had something cheerful to say. Even if he was often brash with his words, Cassy found it had helped a lot through her time at Hogwarts.

Cassy sighed. She halted suddenly, narrowly missing collision with Harry's back. He was unmoving, staring, his lips partly opened and his eyes a fraction wider than they should have been. Curiously, Cassy followed his gaze. Black, leathery skin and milky eyes gazed back at her. The long face was thrown side to side as giant hooves beat the ground impatiently.

'What is that?' breathed Harry.

'What is what?' asked Ginny, climbing into the nearest carriage.

'That horse-thing,' he said, nodding.

The Thestral huffed.

'These carriages pull themselves, Harry,' said Hermione, climbing in beside Ginny.

'No, they don't. That's a Thestral,' explained Neville. He stepped past Cassy and Harry as the other two girls turned in surprise.

'You can see them?' asked Harry to Neville.

'There are four of us here who can see them, I believe,' said Cassy. She moved from behind him and took a seat closest to the Thestral. Gingerly, she reached over and patted its back, the skin smooth but tough beneath her soft fingers. She paid no attention to the heavy silence that developed behind her.

'Cassy,' said Neville softly. 'When I mentioned to you about them in first-year, you couldn't see them.'

Cassy did not respond. She did not see what there was to clarify. It was obvious what had happened. It would take less than a second for them to reassess what they had wrongly believe to have happened that evening; she had not seen Alphard after his death, she had clung to him during it.

The carriage rocked gently as Harry finally climbed on board. No one spoke again until they reached the castle. Cassy spared the briefest of thoughts as to what they wondered, but she found she did not care. They had probably moved on to how Neville and Luna had been able to see Thestrals by the time the wheels slowed to a halt. Even without turning, she could clearly see Harry avoiding looking at her.

Unsurprisingly, Hagrid was not in the hall either. He was not seated at the long teachers table. His seat was empty, inevitably left spare for Professor Grubbly-Plank. More curiously, however, a few seats closer to the Headmaster sat a woman in pink. Her hair was tightly curled and mousy brown, a pink bow fixed on the left-hand side. Her face was large and her mouth reaching from almost side to side. Wide and short, she was dwarfed next to the long, tall stature of Professor McGonagall on her left.

'That's the woman from my trial,' murmured Harry as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table.

'She hates you then,' whispered back Cassy.

There was not even a noise of resignation. Harry merely nodded and said, 'If she is going to teach Defence then I can kiss my OWLs goodbye. She'll fail me as much as Snape.'

The other students did not fail to notice the pink mass at the staff table either. There were many curious stares and loud whispers of discussion. The woman, of whom Harry had forgotten to name, sat with a pleasant smile on her face the entire time, looking down at each child as if there was nothing more she loved in the world than their smiling, youthful faces. She almost appeared kind, too soft, too caring to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, but Cassy was well aware otherwise. Harry had informed her of every detail of his trial. The blunt words in her honey-sweet tone, the sugary smiles that hid and deceived the real message on her tongue. She did not believe Harry. It made even a member of staff the opposition, their backing was being punctured by her very presence.

Professor Dumbledore rose from his chair and extended his hands widely in front of him. Everyone fell into silence, some turned expectantly to the grand closed doors. He took his place again and nodded to Professor McGonagall, who strode quickly down the aisle between the tables and slipped out of the doors. A small echo of the new students' conversations sounded before the door was shut again and the hall was left silent. Soon after, they opened once more and Professor McGonagall came striding in with a gaggle of nervous and curious children.

The stall was all ready present with the Sorting Hat upon it. It groaned, opening a small fold in the fabric that looked suspiciously like a mouth. With a small cough, it began yet another welcoming song to introduce itself.

_In times of old, when I was new,  
And Hogwarts barely started,  
The founders of our noble school  
Thought never to be parted.  
United by a common goal,  
They had the self-same yearning  
To make the world's best magic school  
And pass along their learning.  
"Together we will build and teach"  
The four good friends decided.  
And never did they dream that they  
Might someday be divided.  
For were there such friends anywhere  
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?  
Unless it was the second pair  
Unless it was the second pair  
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw,  
So how could it have gone so wrong?  
How could such friendships fail?  
Why, I was there, so I can tell  
The whole sad, sorry tale.  
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those  
Whose ancestry's purest."  
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose  
Intelligence is surest"  
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those  
With brave deeds to their name."  
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot  
And treat them just the same."  
These differences caused little strife  
When first they came to light.  
For each of the four founders had_  
_A house in which they might_  
_Take only those they wanted, so,_  
_For instance, Slytherin_  
_Took only pure-blood wizards_  
_Of great cunning just like him._  
_And only those of sharpest mind_  
_Were taught by Ravenclaw_  
_While the bravest and the boldest_  
_Went to daring Gryffindor._  
_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest_  
_and taught them all she knew,_  
_Thus, the Houses and their founders_  
_Maintained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_  
_for several happy years,_  
_but then discord crept among us_  
_feeding on our faults and fears._

_The Houses that, like pillars four_  
_had once held up our school_  
_now turned upon each other and_  
_divided, sought to rule._  
_And for a while it seemed the school_  
_must meet an early end._  
_what with duelling and with fighting_  
_and the clash of friend on friend._  
_And at last there came a morning_  
_when old Slytherin departed_  
_and though the fighting then died out_  
_he left us quite downhearted._  
_And never since the founders four_  
_were whittled down to three_  
_have the Houses been united_  
_as they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_  
_and you all know the score:_  
_I sort you into Houses_  
_because that is what I'm for._  
_But this year I'll go further,_  
_listen closely to my song:_  
_though condemned I am to split you_  
_still I worry that it's wrong,_  
_though I must fulfil my duty_  
_and must quarter every year_  
_still I wonder whether sorting_  
_may not bring the end I fear._  
_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_  
_the warning history shows,_  
_for our Hogwarts is in danger_  
_from external, deadly foes_  
_and we must unite inside her_  
_or we'll crumble from within_  
_I have told you, I have warned you..._  
_let the Sorting now begin._

There was a speckled round of applause. Cassy clapped slowly, her eyebrows dipped down into a thoughtful frown. It was longer than the previous songs, the message was sombre and warning, not at all like the joyful introduction she had had in her first year. The first-years glanced around nervously at one another as the clapping quickly silenced. Danger, crumbling, disorder and creeping faults and fears, none of it set an encouraging tone and to those in doubt of Voldemort's return it merely sounded like nonsense. To those who believed, it was a warning, a warning for them to unite early to prevent disaster. Cassy could have laughed. The hat was going to change no one's minds.

'Has the hat ever given a warning before?' whispered Hermione as Professor McGonagall cleared her throat to begin the sorting.

'Oh, yes,' came a voice from beside them. The group turned to see Sir Nicholas floating midway through the Gryffindor table. 'Its messages are always the same, filled with co-operation and unity. It feels honour bound to warn the school of great dangers approaching.'

'Shame it included Slytherin in that. No one can get along with them,' mumbled Ron.

Sir Nicholas turned to him with a frown and Harry looked past Cassy's shoulder at the next table. As his expression slowly grew into a sneer, she knew he had most likely locked eyes with Draco.

As names began to be reeled out one after another, Cassy turned her attention to the current students. Slowly, her head barely turning as she inspected them, she drank in every stare and tense muscle on those surrounding them. Each time someone peered at Harry, she mentally logged their emotion – fear, confusion, curiosity, admiration, there were many different emotions swilling through Gryffindor. Hufflepuff on the table across seemed calmer when she caught them looking, but there was no definite support there either. Ravenclaw sat behind her, too far away for anyone to bother passing a glance at Harry. Slytherin was bypassed entirely.

There was no grand conclusion of support from anywhere. The tale of Voldemort's return was a lot for anyone to take in and no house was entirely uniform in anything they did. Cassy vaguely listened as Professor Dumbledore spoke his timely welcomes, her mind was focused on the other staff members and whom seemed to be avoiding their end of the table, or those looking too much. Professor McGonagall kept her eyes forward, while Professor Flitwick glanced over to them twice before catching Cassy's eye and smiling at her; he believed Harry then. The woman in pink did not look towards Harry at all, smiling politely at the back of Professor Dumbledore's sparkling hat the whole time.

When the silver platters filled with freshly cooked food from the kitchens below, Cassy turned back to the table.

'What were you looking at?' asked Harry, as soon as the loud, echoing chatter erupted.

'I was watching for those watching you,' she replied lowly.

Harry craned his neck and rotated in his seat as he frowned.

Cassy piled several Yorkshire puddings onto her plate. 'There are some who are believing and some who are more hostile, yet a decent amount who I could only see curiosity.'

'If they are going to be stupid and believe I'm a liar then they are in for a nasty shock,' he spat.

'You could at least try to concentrate on the positive parts of what I said,' said Cassy flatly and Harry sighed deeply, slowly squashing his peas into a watery paste.

'Yeah, I should just be happy that some people do believe me... but really - '

'_Harry_,' said Cassy imploringly. She jerked her head to where several younger students had inclined their heads to listen at his loud outburst before.

'I... I don't really care,' he said weakly, with a shrug.

Cassy snorted and Hermione sighed beside her.

'Just ignore them, Harry. People will think what they think until proven otherwise, it is just how they are,' said Hermione simply.

'Or until the novelty of being angry wears off. Then they will actually begin to think for themselves, they will most likely come around. Take third-year, for example, everyone avoided me because my father was publicised as a mass murderer, but people began to act natural again once the excitement of him bursting in and killing them wore off,' offered Cassy.

The younger students suddenly turned away, grimacing at the revelation of who they had been eavesdropping on. Noticing, Cassy let a very low, satisfied chuckle that had Harry laughing into his drink and Neville rolling his eyes with a grin of his own.

'Honestly,' he said.

The meal continued in relative ease. Hermione had become irate with Ron shortly after for mentioning deducting all the points from Slytherin by tomorrow lunch; Neville and Ginny tried to calm her down, but the more glazed Ron's eyes became as she spoke the hotter her temper became. Harry watched the two squabble with mild interest.

'Do you think we'll hear anything from our _friends_ while we're here?' he asked, leaning a faction closer across the table.

'We were hard pressed to get information at the house, let alone here,' muttered Cassy. 'We need a better way of disguising what we are talking about.'

Harry hummed. 'How about we call it Grimmy, then it sounds like a person.'

'Like Death, perhaps,' said Cassy with her eyebrows raised, 'but yes, Grimmy it is.'

'Do you two plan on leaving any treacle tart for anyone else?' asked Ginny loudly from beside them.

Both Cassy and Harry looked down at the circular dish between them. It had less than a quarter remaining. The longer they had been talking, the more of the tart they had eaten. Harry shrugged and said, 'Obviously not. It's ours.'

Completely disregarding what he had said, Ginny leant across and snatched the dish from between them before either could mock grumble.

There was a clinking from the front of the hall. The food vanished from their plates and their cutlery was left empty in the air. Faintly, as the chatter died down, a short groan was heard. Cassy and Harry grinned at one another; Ginny had not got to eat any of the tart she had stolen.

'Good evening, new and old. We are once again brought together to begin another year at Hogwarts. I have a few announcements to make, the first being the return on Professor Grubbly-Plank and the appointment of our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge,' called Professor Dumbledore loudly.

A scattered applause echoed through the hall. No one expected her to last long and no one particularly cared for her first impression either. Quietly, murmurs circulated from some of the older students.

The name rang through Cassy's ears. It rang and rang, echoing through her brain like an old song. She knew it. She had heard it before, she was certain. Yet, if she had, it raised the question as to why someone with a high enough profile within the Ministry would attend Harry's trial. Surely the ranks did not all fall in for a simple expulsion; then again, it was Harry Potter and the accusation of Dementors in a Muggle town was hardly something that could not be investigated, she reasoned. Yet, she could simply not place the name.

'Next, I would like to remind you that Quidditch try-outs are to be later this month,' said Professor Dumbledore. He did not bat an eyelid as Professor Umbridge made a small, high noise, caught somewhere between a giggle and a cough. 'Captains are to pick the exact date, but I have been advised by the Heads of Houses to suggest it be no later than October seventh.'

Professor Umbridge coughed again. Slowly, wearing a too-polite smile for what anyone else would have done, Professor Dumbledore turned to her. 'Yes, Professor Umbridge?'

'I have a few things to say, if you will, Headmaster,' she said brightly, and stood, almost appearing to lose height as she did. There was no sign of an agreement as she peered from face to face and giggled to herself, but Professor Dumbledore intertwined his hands and watched patiently none-the-less.

Professor Umbridge smiled, her wide mouth stretching side to side. From the distance, Cassy might have been fooled into thinking her brown eyes were warm and full of sentiment; she knew better though. They merely appeared so because of her cheeks rolling to meet them in way of her giddy, false smile. Cassy finally understood where she knew the woman from; she was the Senior Under-secretary of the Ministry. A vile woman whom even the purest of Wizards disliked. She was tolerated due to her position, but beyond the Minister himself, Cassy did not know a single person who sought to spend time in her company. Even Lucius loathed her. She got in the way of his own influence too much to be properly civil company.

The Ministry was interfering at Hogwarts and had no intention of being subtle.

Oh, Harry, thought Cassy as she tucked her chin into her palm, you have made such a mess.

'Thank-you for the welcome, Professor,' she cooed. 'It is wonderful to be back in Hogwarts and to see so many bright faces looking back. I am sure we will all be very good friends.' Her voice was high and her words slow, as if speaking to a neighbour's misbehaving, repugnant child.

Cassy looked eyes with Harry, he grimaced at her. He hated her, everything about her from the tightened lower lids and elongated corners of his mouth. Neville had his eyebrows raised and Hermione looked thoughtful; Ginny appeared repulsed.

'The Ministry has always taken the education of young witches and wizards very seriously,' she said, smiling with bright eyes as if becoming tearful at the notion. 'Rare gifts must be guided and nurtured and it is the responsibility of the staff to do so. Each headmaster has brought something different to the school, lest we have stagnation, but progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. What does not add to society must be eradicated. Certain traditions require no tampering, if they are well tried and tested then it is best we leave them be. We must have a balance between old and new...'

It sounded almost absurd that the Ministry intended to remove aspects of Hogwarts it did not approve of; absurd, but not illegal, the school was, after all, under the control of the Government. Cassy huffed, almost laughing, and gained the attention of her friends surrounding her. Hermione pursed her lips, not turning, but Cassy knew she had come to the same conclusion.

Focusing more on older wizarding traditions would integrate the Muggle-Borns better, it almost sounded positive and undoubtedly would have if exiting someone else's mouth. Some habits must be recognised as pointless and Cassy had no desire for the year of shearing to occur during her OWL examinations.

'...Pruning what ought to be prohibited,' finished Professor Umbridge, still smiling sweetly.

Cassy's eyes flinched minutely in alarm.

'Thank-you, Professor Umbridge. Now, off to bed with all of you,' said Professor Dumbledore curtly, splaying out his arms as if to usher them away from Professor Umbridge behind him.

Noise erupted and half the hall was on their feet before he had even finished his sentence. Cassy leant over the table quickly, locking eyes with Hermione, whose mouth had become tense and thinly pressed.

'She is not going to let us practise advanced spells in Defence,' said Cassy immediately.

Hermione shook her head. 'They're in the exam, she has to.'

'If the Ministry thinks there is going to be no war, then I think duelling falls under "what must be prohibited". The threat they fear most is an uprising, is it not?' continued Cassy.

Harry, Neville, and Ginny were looking between the two with varying looks of curious anger. Harry was scowling all ready, his mouth partly open, ready to demand to know what they meant, but neither girl looked at him. They stared at one another severely. The moment Hermione's eyes darted towards the lingering first-years, Cassy knew she had got through. There was simply no way Umbridge was doing to be a productive teacher. She was not like Remus, who taught them what he thought they were ready to know, or like Barty Crouch Jr, whose unorthodox methods had taught them much last year in the way of survival. Professor Umbridge did not wish for them to advance for the sake of advancement; she did not wish to see them prevail at all.

'There will be mayhem. The students will never allow it, even if the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts,' said Hermione with a faint shake of her head. Her brown-eyes lingered on Cassy for a moment, silently stating the conversation would continue later, when Lavender and Pavarti were asleep like they held most of their conversations.

'Where did you get that from?' asked Neville, eyebrows knitted down in concern.

'Weren't you listening at all?' asked Hermione. 'Anyway, first-years, follow me! Ron, get over here.'

'Oy, Midgets!'

'Ron!'

'I zoned out when she began talking in circles,' admitted Neville sheepishly.

'So did I,' agreed Harry. 'So, what did you two mean about Defence?'

'Given what she said about pruning practises and preventing progression that does not need to be made, I would wager that she is not going to teach her class quite the way we need it to be,' said Cassy lowly.

She, Harry, Neville, and Ginny, pushed their way through the crowds and up the tall marble staircases towards the Gryffindor Tower. There was much discussion echoing through the halls, but not many at all seemed to be discussing Professor Umbridge. Most seemed to have lost interest shortly after she began like Harry and Neville, and even Ginny was struggling to recall exactly what had been said.

'Even if she doesn't want to teach us, she has to at least teach us what's in the syllabus though,' offered Ginny reassuringly.

Cassy pursed her lips. 'Who do you think writes the syllabus?' Everyone paled slightly and Cassy sighed. 'I am just speculating, of course. She might be fine, but she is certainly here to keep an eye on the school and make sure your story, Harry, is not being encouraged. Otherwise, they would not have sent someone so high within the Ministry to teach.'

'Bloody wonderful,' muttered Harry. 'I'm going to bed. Goodnight.'

He stomped up to his dormitory with Neville following closely behind, waving good-bye. Ginny flashed her eyebrows in a silent declaration of how poorly that revelation had gone, before dismissing herself to her dormitory too.

Not even bothering to sigh, because she had expected nothing less, Cassy followed their lead and planned her acquaintance with her own bed. First-years had begun piling in, spilling out across the room in their eagerness to explore and inspect. Their voices were high and excited, barely contained in the half-hearted whispers. Ron was caught somewhere in the centre, physically moving the children out of the way, while Hermione seemed to be in a hushed conversation with a particularly anguished looking girl with blonde pigtails.

When Cassy shut the dormitory door behind her, Lavender and Pavarti immediately fell silent. Their eyes were wide for a moment, before they both smiled and greeted her too warmly for their distant companionship.

'Evening,' said Cassy civilly. Her eyebrows were lowered only a fraction, but it was all that was needed to let them know of her suspicion.

'How was your summer?' asked Lavender cheerfully, her legs crossed on Pavarti's bed and clothed in stripy pyjamas.

'Agreeable,' she said blandly. 'Your own?'

'Oh, it was nice.'

Nothing more was said, but Cassy could hear the faint sounds of their whispers through the bathroom door as she changed into her own nightclothes. Once again, she heard the door open and the sounds stopped. Footsteps crossed the room and the chatter did not continue. Cassy rolled her eyes at the obviousness of her two housemates, they did not even think to create a fake discussion to hide themselves. When she exited the bathroom, Lavender was back on her own bed and the two sat silently, occasionally glancing at one another.

'If you have something to say, just do it,' said Cassy as she folded her uniform back into her trunk.

Lavender jumped slightly, but leant forward, gripping her ankles with her hands and whispered loudly, as if expecting someone to burst in if overheard. 'About Harry.'

Cassy stared at her expectantly and Hermione, who had joined not long ago, turned away from her own trunk to stare over her shoulder. Lavender said nothing more though and simply continued to watch them both.

'What about him?' asked Hermione after a second.

'His story,' she said. 'What do you think?'

'What do you think?' countered Cassy.

Lavender and Pavarti glanced at each other and Lavender bit her lip.

'My sister isn't convinced,' admitted Pavarti, 'and my parents are unsure, but I think he is probably telling the truth.'

'I just don't see why the Ministry would not be supporting him if he was, you know. It's not like they'd just be able to ignore it,' added Lavender.

Cassy thought she heard Hermione snort, but maintained her flat expression as she regarded Lavender and Pavarti coolly. 'I know that Harry is not the type of person who would bring back a corpse of another student for attention, nor harm himself to gain popularity.' While her voice was low and level, she very nearly hissed 'corpse', the sound becoming long and the 'c' harsh on her tongue. Her expression did not change, but theirs did.

'I don't really like to read the Daily Prophet and neither do my parents. They say it's a load of rubbish,' said Pavarti more confidently.

Lavender shifted. 'I don't see how a dead man could come back to life though.'

'Harry's not lying,' snapped Hermione, standing with her pyjamas bundled in her arms. 'If you don't think the greatest Dark Wizard of all time would be able to cheat death, then you need to think again. Of everything he has done, I hardly find this the least believable.' She had her eyebrows raised pointedly, before striding across the room and locking herself in the bathroom.

Lavender said nothing more for the rest of the night.

* * *

Lavender was not the only one who appeared to be having difficulties believing Voldemort had returned. As soon as Cassy and Hermione had emerged from the girls' staircase the next morning, Harry was out of the armchair and across the room to the portrait hole before they had even managed to wish him a good-morning. Neville waved them to follow quickly and as they all fell into step, Harry burst into an angry monologue that no one dared interrupt.

Seamus did not believe him. His mother did not believe him, choosing to agree with the deluded image of him that the _Daily Prophet _had conjured that summer. He had asked for Harry to recount what had happened that evening, something Harry struggled to do for anyone, and he could not for Seamus. Instead, he had snapped, telling him he could go and believe the _Daily Prophet_ in his own time.

Cassy narrowed her eyes. 'Did you insult his mother?'

Harry cringed.

'Harry, that was your chance to persuade him otherwise. Now he will probably not believe you on principal,' she scolded.

'What was I supposed to do? Just ignore it?' he snapped.

'Yes!' implored Cassy as though it was obvious. 'It would have been more beneficial if you had kept your head together and treated him civilly to win him over.'

Harry sighed deeply. 'Why can't you just follow me round and tell me what to say? My life would be easier that way.'

Cassy was almost flattered and if it was not for the disgruntled tone in which he had spoken, she might have smiled. However, she said, 'You need to work on what you say. If you can begin to change people's minds here, then their families will hopefully come around and it will be doing the Order a massive favour.'

'Right,' said Harry dully.

'Look,' said Cassy with a sigh, 'It is normal to be angry about it, but - '

'It's fine. I'll just be more enthusiastic to those who think I am an attention-seeker,' interrupted Harry, his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets.

Cassy let out a frustrated growl and turned her head. Ignoring him, Cassy listened to Hermione and Ron bicker some way behind. Fred and George had posted a notice on the Gryffindor board, stating they wanted volunteers to help test their products; Hermione wanted Ron to take action, but Ron had just laughed until he realised she was, in fact, very serious, and the pair had dissolved into an argument.

'I don't care if it's "virtually painless" they can't test things on first-years!' said Hermione, shrilly.

'Look, I am not going to be the one to tell them they can't, because who do you think they will test them on next? Me, that's who,' said Ron, his hands thrown up in defence.

'Then I'll tell them,' said Hermione.

'Good. Go for it,' said Ron.

Hermione strode past Cassy, Harry, and Neville, her nose pointed high as she entered the Great Hall with a determined purpose.

'...You're not serious, are you? You're mad!' called Ron after a second, hurrying by too to catch her before she spotted the twin at the far end of the table.

'Well, the Prefects are going to be interesting this year,' said Neville, falsely bright.

Both Cassy and Harry let out a flat, disinterested hum and took seats on opposite sides of Ginny, leaving Neville next to Luna on the other side. People were no longer bothering to pretend not to be interested in Harry. They stared openly up and down the table, from across the hall and back, and even the Slytherins were turning in their seats to inspect.

'Harry, you're making it rain, mate,' said Ron as he passed, finally having steered Hermione back around.

The charmed sky above them was dark and thunderous, although the clouds above everyone else remained white and fluffy, the barest rays of sun filtering through their wispy edges. The rain began to ease as Harry stared up at it consciously.

As Hermione took a seat on Luna's other side, the conversation fell into place and Cassy and Harry's tenseness began to waver. Timetables were handed out and everyone compared their hours free with one another; Ron could be heard mourning the lower numbers of free periods all ready further down the table. Dean and Seamus nodded along with him, while Ginny grinned, having the luxury of fourth-year relaxation.

Angelina Johnson, the new Captain of the Quidditch Team following Wood's departure two years ago, approached with her chest puffed out and the shining badge fixed where all could see. Harry congratulated her enthusiastically and she instructed him to meet the team on the pitch on Friday at five for Keeper try-outs. Harry nodded and waved, watching her go as he curiously considered who might make the team.

'At least you made the team without question,' said Neville, mopping up the baked bean juice with his toast.

'Of course he did,' said Ginny brightly. 'There wouldn't be much of a team without Harry!'

He grinned back at her and his foul mood finally seemed to begin to lift. The rest of breakfast was spent in lively chatter that had been sorely absent in their long train journey the day before. Eventually, the owls swooped down with the post. Two large reels of paper were deposited in front of both Cassy and Hermione, black print covering side to side. Lowly, Harry grumbled that the pair were still reading the _Daily Prophet_, but they both brushed him off with the need to know before they were told by an unsavoury source, most likely Draco pretending to be deranged; Cassy was rather looking forward to seeing Harry finally snap at him and unleash the pent up rage he had built towards the other boy for the last four years. She certainly had no intention of preventing it.

Cassy cast a sideways glance at the Slytherin table, only to see Astoria hovering not too far away, as if just having stood herself. She smiled at Cassy and ran a hand through her straightened blonde hair. Her head jerked towards the door.

'Excuse me,' said Cassy, stuffing the paper towards Harry, who had been reading over her shoulder despite himself. She smiled warmly at Astoria as the two left the hall, only acquiring a few disturbed stares along the way. The moment their feet stopped moving, Astoria rounded on her, gripping the tops of Cassy's arms tightly.

'How are you?' she burst. 'I wanted to find you on the train, but Daphne insisted that I sat with her to make sure I did not get up to anything unsavoury. My parents are on high alert now and you will not answer any of my questions!'

'Your parents believe Harry too, then?' asked Cassy, not particularly surprised. The Greengrass family kept up with affairs and like any other Pure-blooded socialites, they would hear all about Voldemort's great return somewhere down the line.

'Of course,' said Astoria, frowning. 'My parents were never Death Eaters, but they knew a fair bit about the Dark Lord, seeing as they were out of school for the years leading to the real climax of it all. They supported quite a few of his policies too, so my summer was interesting. Anyway, I want to know how your summer was. You were ever so evasive and I want to know why.'

Somehow Cassy could not justify stating she had been hiding in the headquarters of a secret order set to destroy the Dark Lord's second rising, she could imagine Astoria's face if she did though and while it would undoubtedly be hilarious, Astoria was not one to shrug it off as a joke. She would dig and dig until she either got what she wanted or she would ask her father to get it for her and in that case Cassy would be in serious trouble when word got back around to Tonks. Instead Cassy frowned slightly and went with the second, although no less truthful reply.

'I was staying with my new guardian and we had many things to sort through. I was... preoccupied.'

Astoria winced. 'Right. Sorry.'

'What black magic has made a Greengrass apologise? Oh my,' came a drawling voice from nearby.

Both girls turned to see Stephen wandering towards them, his hands charmingly in his pockets. They greeted him simultaneously and he nodded back.

'I thought I saw you two making a quick escape,' he said.

'I wanted to ask Cassy about her terrible letter replies,' admitted Astoria.

'Ah, yes. Writing a page and getting half of one back,' he said in a false tone of fondness.

'Half? I got a third at best. I see who your favourite is,' said Astoria, crossing her arms.

Cassy rolled her eyes as Stephen and Astoria laughed. 'I was not that bad. Congratulations on your twelve Outstanding OWLs, by the way. Very impressive.'

'Thanks. You're going to have the fight of your life this year. It's not as easy as it sounds,' he said.

'I will work as much as required to match you and ensure my victory over Hermione,' said Cassy easily, waving her hand dismissively.

'Am I a rival now?' asked Stephen cheekily.

'I need to be perfect to do what I want to do,' she said.

'And what is that exactly?' asked Astoria curiously.

'None of your concern. Actually, I have something important to ask.' Cassy's voice suddenly dipped and she leant in closer to the pair of them and they followed suit. 'What is the consensus of Voldemort in your houses?'

Stephen flinched slightly at the name and Astoria merely blinked in surprise.

'It is split,' admitted Stephen.

'I do not know of anyone who does not believe, although I am willing to wager that none of them will admit it,' offered Astoria.

'Is this about Potter?' asked Stephen.

The three of them turned at the same time to see Harry, Neville, and Hermione emerge from the Great Hall, most likely on their way to History of Magic. They were peering at the stationary students, then Harry spotted Cassy and scowled suddenly as his eyes took in the two people beside her. Cassy frowned.

'He's in a pleasant mood,' muttered Stephen.

'Ignore him. He has been in a foul mood all morning,' assured Cassy.

He had cheered up when I left him, she thought to herself, I wonder what happened.

Quickly, as Harry stared her two friends down, Cassy bid good-day to Stephen and Astoria and strode over to Harry, Neville, and Hermione as if she had not noticed the irritation radiating from the former at all. She adjusted the bag strap on her shoulder and looked at Neville and Hermione expectantly.

'History, then?'

Before either of them could comment, Harry cut in, 'What were you talking about?'

The phrase "none of your business" was on the tip of Cassy's tongue, before she turned and began the long journey up to their classroom. She replied with a shortened truth instead. 'I was congratulating Stephen on his OWL results, twelve Os is impressive.' Her voice suddenly lowered and she smirked. 'I was thinking about asking him to tutor me, actually. I would not mind the advantage.'

'That's not fair,' said Hermione indignantly and Cassy turned her head away as her smirk grew wider. 'Besides, he needs to concentrate on his own NEWTs.'

'Is it a problem?' asked Cassy. She swung her head round to show her teasing grin when Hermione sniffed.

'I will still get better grades if it kills me,' she said, full of confidence.

Cassy and Neville laughed. Behind them, there was a distinct lack of amusement. Cassy glanced around to see if Harry was still there, having lagged behind the whole way and while he was, his face was colder than before and his jaw was set tensely. Cassy frowned again.

'Has something happened?' she whispered.

Neville appeared perplexed, but Hermione was frowning thoughtfully. She took a few seconds to finally shake her head and shrug.

'I don't think he likes Goodridge too much. He is Shandy's friend, after all,' whispered Hermione.

'He's not going to cause trouble. We are friends,' muttered Cassy in return.

When Hermione shrugged again, Cassy chose not to think about it anymore. Harry was being delicate that morning anyway and if he chose to be angry because of Stephen's appearance in the hall then Cassy would leave him to it.

The four of them drew to a halt outside of their History of Magic classroom. They were the first there. Silence filled the halls, pierced only by the occasional bird calls or swaying of the late summer leaves. No one had anything to say, their conversation forced dry only two hours into their first day.

Nor did they talk through the lesson. Lavender and Pavarti behind them never ceased, but Cassy took notes diligently as Professor Binns droned on through his monotonous tale. There was not much sense of relief when the bell rang. Not for the first time, Cassy thought she might have preferred to spend another hour in silence.

'Hello, Harry,' came a sugary voice from behind the four as they moved on to Potions. Everyone turned to see Chang smiling shyly, focused on Harry. She glanced at Cassy. 'I see you found your friend, then.'

'Oh, yeah. She tends to come back by herself,' said Harry, emitting an awkward laugh as he ruffled his hair.

Chang laughed.

Cassy let out a long, low hum from deep within her throat. She was not a dog to be called upon whenever Harry called for it, nor Chang, for that matter. With half-lidded eyes, she said, 'Excuse me… _again._'

Effortlessly, and with little patience, Cassy weaved in-between the forthcoming students and those to slow, those who meandered without care; those happy to have returned.

'Cassy, wait up,' called Neville.

Cassy did not slow, but Neville caught up, jogging and apologising as he bumped shoulders with every other person in the hall, lacking Cassy's slight frame and easy grace.

'Hey, class is with Snape, remember. There's no need to rush,' he huffed as he fell into step beside her.

'I am in a hurry to leave Harry behind. I feel as though I have missed something. He was fine earlier. Now the only thing that makes him smile is Chang,' commented Cassy.

Neville shrugged, but the motion was very nearly lost amongst the current motion of his fast swinging arms at his side. 'I don't know anything about that, but this morning was weird, I will give you that. Although, I think you might be a bit more mad about Cho being so keen suddenly - '

'Asked Luna on a date, have you?' snapped Cassy and she watched with satisfaction as Neville coloured rapidly from his neck to his hairline. He fumbled for a moment and then fell silent. He stared at his feet and his hands stopped swinging so eagerly. Instead, they rose to grip the strap of his bag, his fingers fiddled with the golden clasp.

Cassy sighed. 'Neville, I am sorry. I am just...' She could not think of what she felt. She was just angry all the time today, furious, vexed, cross, seething; even as she smiled there was an underlying rage, waiting to jump and to snap and Harry had become very good at pushing the molten heat to the surface of her tongue in the last few days. She hated Harry being angry with her, but she hated the uncertain look on Neville's face more.

' 'S'kay,' he mumbled and Cassy's eyebrows arched upwards in the centre.

'Really, that was unfair. I will make it up - ' she began, yet her words fell short as a bush of brown hair popped into view over the shoulders of the short first years that had piled out of Transfiguration.

'You two walked quick!' said Hermione as she adjusted her shoulder strap. 'Are you all right Neville?'

'Oh, yeah. I was just thinking,' he covered. His face twisted into a grimace. 'It's just, this years supposed to be difficult, right? So imagine how Potions will be. Snape's going to through me out for sure.'

'He can't do that,' assured Hermione warmly. 'Just sit beside me and I'll make sure you don't fail.'

There were only seconds to spare when Harry dashed into the classroom. Panting, he peered around, noting Neville and Hermione near the back, far enough out of sight that Hermione would be able to offer vague instructions if Neville were to become off-course, while Cassy sat in front with an open seat beside her. He slumped down into it, passing her an awkward smile. He said nothing else.

A brief flicker of panic rose in Cassy's stomach. Perhaps the reason he was being so peculiar with her was because he had figured out her feelings at long last.

Once class was in session, Cassy did not have time to dwell on such thoughts. It had given way to a silent shock, an amazement for the boy beside her. For once, Harry was taking notes from not only the board, but from what Professor Snape dictated as well. His page was full and comprehensive. His potion lacked faults. He measured carefully and she could read the numbers his lips soundlessly formed with each stir. It was not perfect, a shade too light to be magnificent, but it was astounding all the same. Harry had actually put effort into the class for the first time and he would surely be rewarded. Even Professor Snape could not help but be surprised by the good work.

Despite wracking her brain for reasons, Cassy could not fathom where this new found effort had come from.

Eager to see if this new found dedication followed into any other class, Cassy took a seat beside Harry in Defence Against the Dark Arts after lunch. The class could not be any more alarming than Professor Moody's had been, nor any more boring that Professor Lockhart's; Cassy did not even venture to think it could be more useful or enjoyable than Remus' had been. She was all ready suspecting the worst.

The worst had been confirmed only moments after Professor Umbridge had entered.

'Good morning, class,' she said sweetly.

There was a scattered reply of 'Morning, Professor.'

Professor Umbridge tutted. 'I said, Good morning, class.'

Everyone peered at one another with varying expressions of amusement, disbelief, and horror. When she cleared her throat, the Gryffindors broke out into a monotonous, reluctant chorus of greetings that seemed to pacify her. Her back was soon turned to the board, where she wrote three simple aims. They contained no magic, or practice, but simple reading, to understand the theory of the subject and the legality of use. It was a lesson Cassy would imagine the Ministry of Magic laughing while writing, proud of themselves for their ingenious _pruning_ of dangerous practices. Professor Umbridge then turned to her desk and sat behind it, her pink court shoes barely touching the stone floor beneath them.

'Right, wands away. You won't be needing those,' she said, her voice high and bright. 'I want you all to read paragraph one from your text book _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbery Slinkhard and we will ask questions at the end. Has everyone got their copy? I expect either "Yes, Professor", or "No, Professor". None of this mumbling, understand?'

'Yes, Professor,' the class replied reluctantly.

'Good,' said Professor Umbridge. 'Now, off you go.'

Harry was all ready frowning as he pulled his text towards him. Cassy did the same with hers, before she flicked it to page five, Chapter One:

_Magical Defensive Theory outlines the most basic and most important rules of Defensive magic. Primarily, one must regard counter-curses and spells as nothing more than a last resort. They are not to be used for amusement, nor by children in any circumstances. Only adult practising witches or wizards are condoned to use defensive magic due to the complex theories behind it and the dangers that come with casting._

Cassy mentally snorted. The book read as if aimed at children, patronising and useless. She doubted even first-years would regard the text as anything above fuel for the common room fire. The page continued in the same fashion and steadily became increasingly dull as the theory began to take hold.

Beside her, Harry was absently staring around the room, inspecting the other students in an effort to avoid reading it himself. On the table across, Ron was twisting his quill in his hands, his eyes never moving, while Dean and Seamus had given up and had turned their notes into a round of noughts and crosses.

Shaking her head, Cassy tried in vain to return to the textbook, but it was nothing she did not all ready know, or at least could be deduced by common sense. Her eyes began to drift again.

On her other side, Neville was slowly taking notes. His hand moved carefully, writing half a sentence for every eight his glazed eyes skimmed over. Next to him, Hermione sat with her copy shut in front of her and her hand in the air. Her eyes were locked on Professor Umbridge, who seemed to be carefully looking the other way. Hermione waved her hand slightly.

Cassy turned to Harry, who had also been watching Hermione's silent struggle, and raised an eyebrow. He did the same in return and gave her a slight shrug. Soon, Neville abandoned his efforts to read too, the tedious text overwhelmed him at last, and he stared at the battle of wills between their friend and the teacher with great interest also. In fact, after five minutes, none of the class were reading, but waiting eagerly to see what Hermione found so important that even she would not follow the lesson plan. It appeared to be enough, for Professor Umbridge soon turned and smiled at her.

'Yes, dear?' she asked, appearing attentive and helpful, as if just having noticed Hermione's surely aching arm.

'Not about the chapter,' replied Hermione. She opened her mouth to continue, but Professor Umbridge did not allow it.

'We are just reading for the time being. Other questions can be asked at the end of class.'

'It's a question about the aims, actually. They make no mention of using magic,' said Hermione confidently before she could be hushed.

Many of the students turned to the bored, as if only just noticing that fact. A small mumble broke out amongst them, but Cassy merely raised an eyebrow again. She could not fathom what Hermione expected to gain from her enquiry. It was quite clear the year was going to be a farce, she had told her so at dinner the night before and she had agreed, so she did not see the need to bring it to attention. She noted that Hermione did not meet with her eyes.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. 'What is your name?'

'Hermione Granger,' replied Hermione calmly.

'Miss Granger, when do you think you will ever need to use defensive spells?' laughed Professor Umbridge, revealing her sharp teeth. 'What do you expect to have to face in my classroom that would ever warrant their use? I understand that the past teachers, with the exception of Professor Quirrel have all been below standard, but to assume you will be likely to be attacked by Dark Creatures every other day is simply absurd.'

Harry's hand was now in the air.

'Professor,' began Hermione.

'Hand up before speaking, Miss Granger,' interjected Professor Umbridge. 'Now, you, what's your name?'

'Dean Thomas,' said Dean from across the room. 'Professor Lupin was actually a great teacher, the best we've ever had, actually.'

This conversation is pointless, thought Cassy. All it was doing was to create uproar. They would not change her mind. She was here to do as the Ministry asked and if her speech the day before was anything to heed, she was very serious about upholding it.

'Now, I am not here to criticise the previous teachers the school has seen, but such dangerous half-breeds should - '

'Who cares if he was a Werewolf? He was still the best teacher we've ever had, hands down,' said Dean flippantly.

Cassy smirked at him and several of the students nodded along.

'Mr Thomas, hand up!' snapped Professor Umbridge. 'Now, I know the Dark Curses you were illegally shown last year has made you worry that something is out there, but there isn't.'

'What about exams?' called Pavarti. 'What do we do then?'

'Hands! And you will perform it in the exam under Ministry controlled conditions only,' said Professor Umbridge, smiling tightly.

'The first time we practise will be in the actual exam?' scoffed Ron. 'That's mental.'

Professor Umbridge turned to reprimand him, but Ron had half-heartedly raised his hand before she reached him.

'Theoretical knowledge, the Ministry believes, is more than sufficient,' she said shortly.

'Only because the Ministry is sufficiently thick-headed,' breathed Cassy resentfully. Harry burst into giggles, but Professor Umbridge ignored them.

'What good is only using it in the exam when it will give us no practice for real life?' asked Harry loudly once he had composed himself again, his hand still high in the air.

Professor Umbridge turned to him, her face fixed in a blank stare and her voice soft. 'My classroom is not real life, Mr Potter.'

'Professor, you will find there have been more attacks in this school than outside of it,' said Cassy. Inwardly, she almost berated herself for not keeping her mouth closed, but if the entire class was burning down the lines of etiquette then she might as well side herself with Harry and be done with it.

'Hand up when speaking in my classroom,' said Professor Umbridge, her voice losing some of the sweetness in her impatience. 'Your name is?'

'Cassiopeia Black,' replied Cassy, meeting the Professor's eyes calmly.

'What do you suppose there is in those streets waiting to attack children, dear?'

'Oh, I don't know. Voldemort, maybe?' said Harry loudly.

The class was startled into silence and Professor Umbridge's wide mouth elongated further into a toothy grin.

'Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter,' she said cheerfully, 'for lying.'

Harry sneered and Cassy pulled his hand down as it automatically reached for attention again. With her eyes fixed on Professor Umbridge's face, she leant over and whispered almost soundlessly in his ear. 'Something is not right. She is too happy. Be silent.'

Harry wriggled his hand from her grasp. She snatched his hand back, urging him to keep still and stay quite. He had said what he had wanted and now that was done.

'Harry, just walk away,' she whispered.

Professor Umbridge stood and folded her hands in front of her. 'You have all been told that You-Know-Who has returned, this is not true.'

'Yes it is. I fought him the night Cedric died!' snapped Harry. He wrestled his arm free from Cassy.

'Mr Potter! Do not raise your voice at a member of staff. Detention.' Professor Umbridge made a poor effort to conceal her pleasure. 'Tomorrow evening and five o'clock sharp in my office. To the rest of you, I assure you it _is_ a lie and the Ministry assures you there is no danger. Any concerns can be reported to me. As a friend, I wish to hear about anyone making you concerned with their vicious tales. For now, everyone back to work.'

If Cassy had not been raised to be composed, she would have snorted at the absurdity. However, she was more preoccupied with grabbing a limb as Harry suddenly stood and strode over to Professor Umbridge's desk, his head high and his eyes narrow. Cassy had missed her chance to force him to sit, he seemed to have been expecting it and side-stepped almost immediately.

'So according to the Ministry, Cedric just dropped dead on his own account that night, did he? He was murdered by Voldemort. He was murdered because Voldemort doesn't care for anyone, he doesn't care who he kills, be them children or otherwise. He killed Cedric because he was in the way, because he did not care for his life at all. He will kill us if we don't defend ourselves.' Harry spoke clearly, almost controlled, if it had not been for the audible wavering of simmering rage. Tightly, his hands were balled into fists at his sides. His back was to the class, unaware of the horrified and curious faces that stared intently at him.

For a moment, Professor Umbridge said nothing. She scribbled on a small piece of pink parchment and then handed it to Harry, who almost crumpled it immediately.

'Take that to Professor McGonagall,' she said calmly.

Hermione let out a hiss and Neville turned in his seat to watch Harry stomp from the room, only turning back once Professor Umbridge emitted a soft cough, instructing them to all return to work.

As Cassy scribbled down half-hearted notes, she tried to piece together the expressions that had followed Harry to the door. There had been pride, amazement, fear, anger, and horror. Very few seemed to value what he had done. It was only Ron and Dean who had been grinning behind their hands in quiet support. Everyone else seemed shocked, if not mortified. Although her eyes kept moving, Cassy did not take in any more words from the chapter. Her mind was filled with darkness, the laughter and cheers, the sound of brass instruments filling the night sky and the cheers of both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons melding with the cheers for Hogwarts. The atmosphere of the Tournament was easy to imagine; the sight that followed was not. She tried to picture Harry returning with the cup, Cedric in his arms, unmoving. She tried to picture what Harry would have called, if he had looked to the crowd, to Professor Dumbledore, or straight at Cedric as she shouted of Voldemort's return that night.

It was suddenly easier to understand why people found it difficult to believe the Dark Lord had returned. The Tournament had been dangerous enough to kill a man as it was, anything could have happened, there were at least one-hundred ways to explain the death without involving the reanimated form of the single darkest wizard of all time. It would be a hard sight to take in, but they had had long enough. Their house-mates and those in their year had had long enough to know Harry to know he would never lie, but those in the world would think he was mad with reason. She too, expected she would think him odd if she had never met him.

Cassy found Harry outside the common room before dinner. She had arrived to drop off her bag, hoping to see him before he was forced to shut down at the soon to be unyielding stares and comments in the Great Hall.

'This year is going to kill me,' he said.

She smiled grimly. 'You say that every year and you have survived so far.'

'Yeah, but I've got a feeling about this one,' he said, his voice flat and his lips pressed together thinly.

Cassy's smile widened into a sarcastic smirk. Harry was quite right, the year was going to be the most trying and taxing of their time if the first day was any standard.

* * *

**Whoops, longer than expected. I have a feeling most of these chapters are going to be longer than the previous ones simply out of what I have to get in them. The little fights will be quite common for the next few chapters. I didn't realise how angry Harry was through the year until I read the book again recently, so while Cassy changes things, I don't think she would impact on that too much, especially when her own problems are present too. **

**I've started giving the plot of year seven some serious thought now and it's made me quite sad, haha. I usually avoid reading that book because I don't like to think of it as the end of it all. **

**For a note, I certainly enjoy writing the latter half of this year more. In the actual series, the fifth book is not my favourite because so much of it is setting up Umbridge, conflict there and Harry's anger, quite frankly I find it a bit tedious. If you do to, please stick with me until I can shift beyond that point. I have substituted a lot of the direct narration on it out for Cassy's own issues, but that can be a bit emotionally draining too, so it's split up across many chapters. I hope it makes sense when reading, because they all add together to explain exactly what she is going through as a major character arc. (I like to have one at least every two years of this story. Second, third, and fifth are the big ones). If it gets a bit unclear, let me know!**

**Thanks!**


	10. Cold shoulder

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter X: Cold shoulder**

'You must be careful, Harry,' said Cassy imploringly after dinner.

The common room had settled into a low murmur of activity. For many, the first busy day after the long summer had tired them, forcing them to slink into nearby seats to converse lazily, or even to an early retirement. The fire crackled softly, adding an extra layer of noise to mask the hushed conversation.

'I should be able to tell people the truth,' said Harry, frowning.

'That will cause trouble and the more trouble you are in the less likely people will be to support you because they will fear that you will also cause them grief,' disagreed Cassy calmly.

Not for the first time, Harry scoffed. 'I don't care.'

'Then why did you become so offended by Seamus' questions?' she asked coolly.

Harry was silent.

'Listen, I believe that Professor Umbridge is only stationed here to keep an eye on the Headmaster and you; she is to ensure that the truth does not become a common belief. She will try to discredit you as she did in class today. You need to be careful not to draw more attention from her,' said Cassy carefully. Her eyes remained fixed on Harry's face, monitoring each flicker of emotion and every twitch of muscle as she spoke. already on thin ice, she had no desire to push too hard, but he needed to hear it, yet she could already tell it was not appreciated.

'You sound like McGonagall,' he said flatly. 'She told me to watch myself too.'

Cassy raised a pointed eyebrow and Harry shifted in his seat. He no longer slouched, but leant away against the back of the plush, scarlet sofa. The fire reflected on his round spectacles, his eyes obscured. Cassy did not need to see them to read his emotion. She knew him too well by then to miss the way his shoulders had tensed and his jaw set, if just slightly. He was annoyed and offended.

'Don't start,' he said sharply. 'I should be able to publicise his return, I owe it to Cedric and to everyone to let them know what they will be up against. I don't want you telling me to stay quiet. You should be beside me to support me and helping me spread the word of Voldemort's return! I expected you to, to be honest. I expected you to be a good friend.'

Cassy said nothing for a time. She stared, stunned at his words, but even more so at his audacity. Slowly, her lips began to draw back and Harry did the same, readying himself for a fight that Cassy was not going to allow to occur.

'If you were a good friend you would stop taking this anger out on everyone else – hold your tongue, Potter, I'm talking. I expected snappy comebacks and sarcasm, but this anger of yours is constant and it is unbearable. I want to warn people as much as you, but I am trying to support you like an adult, not a petulant child akin to your own behaviour. Have you ever considered there are other ways to persuade people of the truth? Ways beside landing everyone you know in detention with a hag from the Ministry writing reports back on who needs to be kept under supervision? Have you not considered that will harm your cause more? No. No, you have not, because you are wrapped up in your own pity party and cannot notice anything outside of your own hardship!'

Cassy was on her feet by the end of her speech. Sharply, her words hissed, leaving her tongue with such rage and fire that Harry had no room to settle on anything but utter shock. There was no waiting to see his reply. Cassy had no time for a battle, her mind was already full and her nerves too stretched to be bothering with any such efforts that night. Swiftly, she turned on her heel and passed the faces of all the students who remained blissfully, and thankfully so, unaware of the spat of the two most undesirable members of the Gryffindor house.

She said nothing to Neville and Hermione, who were still working diligently on their new homework in the far corner. Her feet glided up the steps and across the dormitory to her bed. She flung the curtains all across. As soon as she curled up in the darkness, Cassy no longer bothered to hide the scowl that had been trying to ebb its way onto her face.

How dare he, she thought scathingly, how dare Harry speak to me like that?

He had never done so before. Even at his angriest, Harry had never accused her of being a poor friend, although Cassy had often privately antagonised that she was over the years to all of her friends. She had explained she had wanted him to remain out of sight and it was obvious why, so she could not fathom why it was such an impossible concept for him to grasp. It was as if Harry was seeking to attention, almost going out of his way to cause havoc everywhere he went, from his intense temper to his reckless actions in class. No one at Grimmauld Place had failed to notice his distance since he had arrived. No one was going to have missed the tale of his outburst in class by tomorrow either.

She wanted to be scornful and ignore him, but a calmer, more rational side of her brain told her that her speech was too much, too harsh, and that it was enough already. Rather than guilt, Cassy felt resignation. Harry was not a diplomat and nor would he likely ever be. His greatest conflict had been with Voldemort, or his relatives before that, something he did not need to rely on public opinion for. He had no idea what to do and Cassy did; she could help him if he would let her. He needed her advice.

He was angry all the time. She was angry all the time, waiting for something else to go wrong. Things with Harry were already unsteady that she had half a mind to confess the feelings she had been harbouring for almost a year now and be done with it. It could not get any worse that it already was unless he decided to cut ties entirely and even in her anger she could not see that happening. Harry was too nice. Perhaps then she would get over him and move on with her life if he out rightly rejected her.

Sighing, Cassy withdrew her Potions textbook, keen not to waste the entire evening.

* * *

The following day, Harry did not mention the argument. It was as though nothing had been mentioned, or it would have been had Harry's tone not become cool and curt when speaking to her. He did not avoid her, or ignore her, but merely spoke through her, maintaining discussion with the group by never directly conversing unless needed and Cassy took no notice. An irritable beast reared in her chest, but it was nothing she had not been keeping at bay for the last three months. She had become quite adept at it by then.

In the morning, before anyone else had risen, Neville had caught her by the fire, his hands twisting his tie into a clumsy knot as he walked. His eyes raked the surfaces of the common room. Hermione had begun knitting socks and hats for the House-elves. He spoke shortly and nodded at Cassy's affronted expression. Apparently, he had thought to tell Hermione himself that they could not be freed by others than their master and as they technically worked for the Headmaster, it was a useless ambition, but Neville did not have the heart.

Cassy pursed her lips. She made a mental note to call upon Plum and Kitsy later. While she was not worried they would leave her service – she knew she would have a fight on her hands if she tried – she did fear their unhappiness at finding hidden clothing in unsuspecting places. If they were to take offence, then Cassy would have to calm them and Plum was not fond of Hermione as it was.

Cassy smiled grimly half-an-hour later as Hermione joyfully exclaimed all of her knitting had vanished. Long before her fuzzy-haired friend had emerged, Cassy had decided not to tell her. It would only cause her to become upset and she believed herself to have enough issues, without the accusation she was undermining Hermione's Civil Rights efforts again. If there was even one elf who wanted them, then she was going to leave them be for now.

Transfiguration and Charms were much like the same lesson that day. Half of it each was spent stressing the importance of the OWL exams in moving into careers in later life. They were the most basic of Wizarding Achievements and were vital to be able to continue study. Failure to achieve the required grade that year would limit their choices of NEWT exams in seventh-year.

No had appeared enthused by the news. To most, June seemed an age away and seventh-year was even further, an unimaginable and unreachable goal to the class of fifteen-year-olds who had slowly begun to waver in their attention by midway through the speech. Cassy eyed the board, reading the instructions of the Vanishing Charm Professor McGonagall had pre-emptively written on the blackboard behind her. She had no interest in the finer points of the importance of the exams; it was nothing she had not known since she was five. Her life had been spent preparing for them, ready to move above and beyond the average level of work and on to something greater. Anticipation rose at the thought of moving onto sixth-year work and what she could possibly do beyond it. Perhaps something more challenging, she hoped, watching Professor McGonagall clap her hands together and begin the actual lesson half-an-hour late. Cassy hoped for something difficult, something to make her think and work. Two days into the year and she was already bored, restless even, discontent with school, or perhaps it was everyone else around her.

Cassy did not bloom into eagerness in any of her classes. Charms was merely a revision of last year, following an almost word for word recount of what Professor McGonagall had said prior, and in Care of Magical Creatures they focused on Bowtruckles, which Cassy had seen before. They were tiny tree-guardians, their skin dark and rough like bark, with long nails used to fight and gauge. It was almost interesting, watching them rip the shells off the woodlice as they feasted on the pot Professor Grubbly-Plank had set out for them. Yet, she was not Hagrid and it was nothing Cassy had not heard in childhood bedtime stories of the dangers of misadventure in the forest.

Cassy spent most of her lesson making slow notes. Occasionally, she glanced over to Draco, watching him laugh easily with his friends.

It would be wonderful if he was to be covered in those woodlice, the Bowtruckles would go mad, thought Cassy absently. Their little claws would poke and pinch.

'You look vindictive,' remarked Neville beside her.

Cassy turned to look at him, only to then realise how far her eyes had narrowed. She wiped the smirk off her face and went back to her notes. Professor Grubbly-Plank called out another name to come closer to see the tree-guardian in turn.

Harry slipped into the space on the ground beside Hermione. A deep frown was on his face. Cassy pretended not to notice.

'I am worried something has happened to Hagrid,' he said, looking between them.

Cassy turned over her notes as though she had not heard him.

'What do you mean?' asked Neville, concerned.

'Malfoy said that maybe Hagrid has got himself injured, that he was messing with something too big for him,' said Harry, hushed and alarmed.

Too big? Thought Cassy in interest. Lucius and Narcissa were doing an exceptionally poor job of keeping Draco's tongue tied if it was the case.

'Oh, don't think about it, Harry,' said Hermione. 'He is just winding you up as always by pretending he knows what is going on. You reacting will only make him do it more.'

Cassy knew the only way to deal with Draco was to make him think he was ill-informed. Not only would it make him angry, but it would make him second guess himself. His teasing would get worse for a time, but simultaneously more desperate until it crumbled beneath him. It was how she had always won their little fights as children, each time a birthday present was hidden, or a mystery day trip planned, he would pretend to know better and Cassy would merely lie better. She would giggle to herself each time his back was turned, knowing full well he was pouting at his mother to be told as soon as she would leave.

That fond thought was broken off quickly.

From the side of her eyes, she cast a long, flat stare at Draco. He continued to laugh while he eyed the back of Harry's head. Beside him, Crabbe and Goyle guffawed with laughter at something he had said and Parkinson looped her arm through his and smirked nastily. Draco did not once even glance at Cassy. His eyes remained fixed on Harry only when he ventured in their direction.

It might have been the lack of her own conversation that allowed Cassy to hear the fierce and renewed discussion on what had really happened in June in the maze on the way to Herbology. Fiery words were spat louder than the day before. Questions arose on how Harry could expect anyone to believe his tale again and again all through the halls they walked. Cassy waited. She waited for Harry to explode and lash out, but he did not. It was as if he had not heard them and Cassy considered it impossible. She might have believed it though, had she not caught sight of his trembling fists as they lined up.

The doors finally opened up, allowing a fresh burst of whispers the flood down the hall. The mix of students did not look the least bit ashamed when they all turned to stare at Harry. Although many hands rose to hide their mouths, making it impossible for Cassy to read their whispers, few thought to look away. Cassy scowled openly at them as they passed, enticing a slight bit of embarrassment from a few, their heads ducked.

'I believe Harry Potter,' came a light, airy voice from the middle of the crowd. 'I think You-Know-Who has returned.'

Through the throng of fourth-years, Cassy spotted Luna. Her hair was tied in a messy knot on the top of her head and beside her was Ginny, her chin held high as if daring anyone to comment on what her friend had said. The pair of them smiled when they passed.

'That hardly helped things at all,' said Hermione in an indignant whisper.

'Well, it's nice to have some open support,' said Harry blandly.

'Well, I believe Harry too,' came the voice of Ernie Macmillan as they filed inside. 'My parents have always been loyal followers of Dumbledore.'

His words enticed a renewed mumbling. Several faces straightened, their laughter and teasing forgotten, including that of Lavender and Seamus. Lavender caught Cassy's eye and quickly looked away. Her resolve had been weak since the first day. She had crumbled almost immediately when Pavarti expressed her own resolve. Seamus, however, stared on in defiance. His moment of remorse was only an instant. Yet, Cassy found herself wondering how different it would be if Harry just apologised for insulting his mother. She could think of other things Harry could do with apologising for to.

He had not done anything of the sort by the time dinner rolled around that evening. Neville was cheerfully complimenting Luna on her support, but Harry was hardly listening. His food was on his plate and gone from it in a minute. His eyes flicked down to his watch that Neville had brought him for his birthday.

'Is it time for your detention?' asked Hermione anxiously.

'Yeah,' sighed Harry.

'Good luck,' said Neville with a strained smile. 'How bad can it be, really?'

'It's not like I've never had detention before. I just don't want to spend an extra hour with her,' grumbled Harry.

'No one wants to see her face for a moment, let alone extra, but you dug your own grave,' added Ginny, mashing her baked potato.

Harry turned and gave her a flat look, but Ginny merely shrugged.

'Well, you did.'

'Quite spectacularly,' agreed Cassy under her breath.

Hermione elbowed her. She nearly kicked her back under the table, yet found she did not have the effort.

'Thanks, Ginny,' snapped Harry. He picked up his bag and swung it over his shoulder, before he strode from the hall, vanishing towards the marble staircases.

'I don't think he agreed with you, Ginny,' piped Luna when they all returned to their meals.

'Well, it's true,' defended Ginny. 'He needs to stop taking out his temper on everyone else. It's not like we're the ones spreading he is a liar. Have none of you tried to mention it?'

'I have,' answered Cassy shortly.

'Is that why he's ignoring you?' asked Hermione. She frowned and paused.

Cassy sighed. 'He said I was not being vocal enough in my support and so I was a bad friend. I told him his behaviour now should make him think of who is a bad friend.'

'Oh, Cassy,' groaned Hermione into her hands.

'So, that went well, did it?' asked Neville with a grimace.

'Was that all you said?' questioned Hermione. She ducked her head into Cassy's eye line when the other refused to look up. 'Cassy!'

'I may have called him a petulant child and accused him of being wrapped up in his own pity party,' said Cassy after a moment of silence.

No one spoke for a time, until a low, grimacing 'ooh' came from Ginny and Hermione whined again into her hands. Neville bit his lip and Luna had raised her eyebrows a fraction, but soon forgot it in favour of the dessert that appeared to replace the hot dinner foods.

'Usually you are so tactful,' said Neville.

'I lost my temper,' admitted Cassy, embarrassed. 'I was sick of him being so sharp towards me when I have been doing my best all summer. It is as though he switched when he did not need me anymore. It is infuriating.'

'I was going to say something myself when he got back from detention,' said Hermione. 'I was beginning to lose my patience too, but mine wasn't going to be so blunt.'

'Yes, well, I don't regret it,' said Cassy. She dropped her fork down onto her plate and swung her legs over the edge of the bench. There was nothing left for her to say and mentioning the conversation only served to renew her irritation with Harry. She looked down at Neville. 'Are you coming to do your homework as asked earlier?'

'Yeah,' agreed Neville; he quickly stood, as if fearful she would leave without him otherwise.

'Me and Luna were going to do our own in the library later. We might see you there,' said Ginny, reaching over to pick up a slice of Victoria Sponge cake.

Cassy looked expectantly at Hermione.

'I think I'm going to do some more knitting. The homework is easy enough, so I'll do it tomorrow instead. I want to free as many elves as possible,' announced Hermione.

Cassy stared at her friend's gleeful smile and any urge to tell her it was futile died once more. 'Okay, well we will see you later. Come, Neville.'

Neville, despite being taller than Cassy, was forced to jog to fall into step with her quick stride. They exited into the entrance hall, which was flecked with the occasional body of lingering students and the mingling of other houses up and down the stairs. The numbers thinned the higher they climbed. It was not until they entered a completely vacated corridor that Neville dared to peer down at Cassy.

'Are you all right?' he asked.

'I'm fine,' she replied.

'I don't just mean about your argument with Harry. You've been bit off lately,' he said, ignoring her response.

'What do you mean "off"?' she said with genuine curiosity.

'Well,' began Neville, as he pulled at the seams of his cloak nervously, 'you don't talk as much as you used to and when you do it doesn't last very long. Sometimes you talk about odd things.'

'Such as?' enquired Cassy in a low drawl. She had been talking fine, she assured herself. She had not noticed herself ignoring the conversation, as much as she wished she could. She spent more time alone, but that was merely by choice. Too long in Grimmauld Place had driven her half mad and so her relief was to come from the school, where she could slip away and sit for hours in silence in class, left with a task and her own mind. At least, it was to be a relief if Harry did not insist on sharing his permanent rain cloud with the rest of them. It almost sounded insulting; it was as if Neville was accusing her of being unsociable and that role had already been filled by another with anger issues.

'I mean like those books of yours. You shouldn't be reading them, they're dangerous,' he said, his voice became firmer.

'If you knew I was reading them so I understand what we will be facing, would you still be inclined to fight me?' questioned Cassy calmly. Her tone was light, as if commenting on the weather or complimenting a dog. As she suspected, Neville hesitated.

'I still don't like it, Cassy,' he said eventually. 'Those types of things are always bad news.'

Cassy did not reply. The remainder of the walk to the library was conducted in silence and it was not until they had seated themselves at the table that Cassy spoke again. Her fingers trailed over the textbook, listing off the key paragraphs and where to find them, what to include what was irrelevant. Neville scribbled down her words at the bottom of his Potion notes of the lesson, which were sparse at best and non-existent entirely in places. Without complaint, Cassy passed him her own notes. They were long and comprehensive, perhaps too much for Neville to take in, but in his determination to at least pass his Potion OWL, he spent the next half-an-hour reading them thoroughly anyway.

Slowly, he worked through Professor Snape's essay. Despite being tempted to help as she had for years now, Cassy allowed him to work through it himself and only intervened when asked. She considered it healthy if Neville design his own work ethic, but long since engrained habits of carefully correcting his mistakes still had her peering over her own essay occasionally to monitor his progress.

Her own Care of Magical Creature essay was nearing completion when a small cough sounded from the shelves behind. With no urgency, Cassy turned in her seat, noting that Neville had widened his eyes at the person already.

Astoria stood with her hands hung easily by her sides. No attention was paid to Neville, there was no unease at his presence; in fact, it appeared as if Astoria had not registered he was there at all. For that second, with her face calm and her eyes trained solely on Cassy, Cassy considered her to be very much like her older sister Daphne for the first time since they had met.

'Can I speak with you?' asked Astoria.

'You can,' responded Cassy.

Neither moved for a time, before Astoria frowned and her shoulders slumped.

'May I speak with you?' she asked again.

'Yes, you may,' said Cassy, rising from her seat with a pleasant smile that Astoria merely rolled her eyes at. 'Neville, I will be back in a minute, okay?'

'Yeah,' he said, unsure.

Turning back to Astoria, Cassy rolled out her arm to sign for her to lead the way. Astoria did and the pair walked down many winding aisles of the library, passing through more and narrower openings as they entered the very centre. She stopped suddenly. Her shoulder leant against the shelf, something Cassy could not achieve through her inferior height, and her arms crossed across her chest. Astoria's eyes did not rake up and down the aisle, nor peer through the books into either side. She had already planned the spot for the conversation; she had already checked it was secure and Cassy found herself crossing her own arms in reluctance at hearing what she might want.

'How are you?' asked Astoria.

'Fine,' said Cassy shortly. She batted it away as nothing more than a courtesy question, an opener to an unpleasant conversation.

'What exactly had occurred between you and Draco?' she then asked, without missing a beat.

There we go, thought Cassy flatly. Her expression did not change, having already expected such a question the moment they stepped deeper than the Potion isle.

'I understand that you have feelings for my cousin, Astoria, but that does not make it any of your business,' said Cassy coolly.

Astoria scowled. 'What about us being friends? I don't just spend time with you because I fancy your cousin.'

'But you used to,' replied Cassy pointedly.

'Yes,' snapped Astoria, 'and you used to be nice to me even then, yet here you are being a jerk. I just wanted to know what happened.'

'I'm sorry. I have had a few fights in the past few days. My temper is short,' Cassy sighed. 'What makes you think anything is wrong?'

Astoria stared down at her critically for a few seconds. Then, she pursed her lips. 'Draco has been talking about you more than usual in the common room. Normally, he just ridicules your friends, but... sometimes he mentions you too now.' For the first time, Astoria almost looked uneasy for being so blunt.

There was only a slight sinking in Cassy's stomach.

'We had an argument,' said Cassy, the half-lie slipped easily from her mouth. She had prepared a speech in case a friend should ask, but she supposed they could hardly tell the difference. Draco had never pretended to be close and Cassy had rarely defended him back. It was as if their reluctant acknowledgement of their relationship had finally become the flat hate that was expected of them. Cassy was ashamed to admit she was genuinely surprised it had happened. For all of his complaints, she had at least thought Draco cared somewhat about her.

'A big one then,' said Astoria, frowning.

'It was simply because I did not go to live with him following the funeral,' said Cassy, her voice sinking sternly. 'He seems to think it was my doing, when I really had no say.'

Astoria scowled deeply. 'What a terrible thing to be angry over! You have enough to deal with, let alone him adding to it by being such a prat.'

'Just ignore it,' said Cassy. Her lips turned up at the edges as she did her best to smile. Painfully aware she was failing, Cassy let it slide again. 'Draco will only do it more if he thinks he is getting attention from it.'

'Boys are stupid,' sighed Astoria.

Aren't they just, thought Cassy.

'Everyone has the capacity to be stupid,' she responded instead.

'Yes, well,' scoffed Astoria, 'if he thinks it's okay to hassle you over that then he has another thing coming.'

'I am older than you, you know,' laughed Cassy. A genuine smile tugged at her mouth for the first time that day.

Astoria stared down at her appraisingly. 'Yes, but I am a Slytherin and you are not, so I have to assume you are fulfilling your stupidity capacity.'

'How rude!' exclaimed Cassy, grinning.

'On the topic of rudeness, actually,' said Astoria, as if just having remembered, 'apparently you have been speaking to one Blaise Zabini, the rudest boy I know.'

'Is he now? How have you heard that, anyway?' asked Cassy curiously.

'Daphne told me. She said he mentioned you after she pestered him about where he went on the train. They are quite close and Daphne knows we speak, so she asked me whilst assuming you would have told me,' admitted Astoria.

'Oh? Did you not think it was risky to tell her we speak? She does not exactly seem to think much of me,' said Cassy, one eyebrow raised high on her forehead.

'She took one of my letters during summer because she wanted to know who I was writing to when we had just had a dinner party to see my friends at,' said Astoria, her easy tone suggesting her sister's nosiness was a common occurrence. 'Besides, it is not that she doesn't think much of you, it is just that she is hard to impress, much like Blaise. It's why they get on so well, I think.'

'Brilliant. I have spoken to Zabini, but besides that there is nothing to be done about Dr – Malfoy.' The name felt horribly bitter. 'Thank-you for the concern though. He can ridicule me and people can listen, but it is not the most important aspect of my life right now.'

Astoria hesitated and Cassy's eyes sharpened instantly.

'What is it?' she asked.

'You see, it's not only what Draco has been saying, but rather to who…'

Cassy hissed.

* * *

**As promised another update! **

**Also as promised, more Cassy and Harry fighting. Cassy's not dealing with things well. Things are mounting up for her and her limited emotional range is in over drive. ;) This chapter sets up a bit, but is more a connection to the next. **

**I had a comment on Cassy's feelings towards Harry being sudden, I apologise if they read as such. I knew when she realised in fourth-year, but there is a large possibility it wasn't that obvious to anyone else. She started having an idea of them at Christmas when she heard Ginny and Harry were going to the ball together and I mention them occasionally afterwards, although usually through her actions, so while I know she would be fed up with it by now, I realised they may appear suddenly thrown in there. However, romance is full speed ahead this year and by that I mean it will progress at the same speed anything else does and will be trundling along in the background for a while yet. **

**The reviews have been lovely so far.**

**Thanks!**


	11. Tough days and taunting

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XI: Tough days and taunting**

It was nearly eleven o'clock when Harry returned to the Tower. He trudged through the portrait hole and cast his gaze over to where most of the fifth-year Gryffindors had settled themselves by the fire. Lazily, he waved. His sluggish pace continued across the room and up the stairs of the boys' dormitories, failing to return.

Cassy did not put much thought into it. She had tried to avoid thinking about him as much as possible. The desire to apologise to him was rising through the day. Each and every time she thought of his shocked face, or listened to the hateful sneers that followed him through the castle, she wanted to just throw up her hands and concede that he was right, that she was being a terrible friend. Yet, she meant what she had said to him too and apologising was to take back her scorn that he had earnt and Cassy was not quite ready for that. She was too stubborn, too certain in her action to back down.

Turning away from the fire that she had been staring blankly at as she thought, Cassy eyed Hermione's knitting. She had considered telling her about the futility, but even that seemed like an effort too grand for her. Instead, she settled for rummaging through the pile of hats her friend had made that evening, each one looking very much like the 'woolly bladders' Ron had described them as.

Across on the other side of the coffee table sat Neville, Ron, Dean, and Seamus, each of whom had spent the last hour practising the Vanishing Spell for Professor McGonagall. Several oranges had disappeared from the fruit bowl, but someone seemed to have summoned a fern and no one was willing to accept responsibility for it.

Cassy let out a low chuckle when Ron's apple split in half.

'I agree with you, you know,' said Hermione suddenly.

Cassy turned to her, her chin resting on the palm of her hand and her legs curled to the side. A book was perched on her lap and her wand lazily twisting in the other hand. Hermione sat stroking Crookshanks, his giant orange form stretched widely over her legs.

'Pardon?' asked Cassy.

'I agree with you about Harry. I think he needs to stop taking his anger out on everyone. It's driving me mad today too,' she said calmly.

Cassy regarded her for a moment. 'It is not so much his temper that bothers me. He could be as angry as he pleases, but to act as if we do not understand, as if we are not doing enough by supporting him... that is what makes me angry. I also don't like being accused of being a terrible friend, but he really has no regard for tact anymore.'

'He just needs to get to terms with it, you know how his temper can be. I am more surprised he's still survived an argument with you. How did he manage that?' joked Hermione. A half-smile pulled at her lips and Cassy could not return it.

'It wasn't so much of an argument as it was me hissing at him, but I no longer possess the energy to fight with him. It hardly seems worth it,' said Cassy tiredly.

Hermione frowned and shut her book. She shifted, turning in her seat to face Cassy better. Crookshanks sunk his claws into her leg in discontent, but Hermione simple continued to pet him without a thought. For a long time, she stared. It was as if her brain was conducting a check on itself, processing each thought into a phrase that might be acceptable. Eventually, she frowned deeper and opened her mouth.

'I am worried,' said Hermione.

'About?' asked Cassy.

'You,' she said.

'Me?' repeated Cassy in surprise.

'Yes, you,' said Hermione. 'You hardly sleep anymore and you pick at your food constantly. I'm glad you eat at all, but you need to eat proper food, not just binge on dessert and the sweets you have under your bed.'

Blinking owlishly, Cassy allowed the words to sink into her brain.

'Really,' continued Hermione, 'when was the last time you slept eight hours? You sleep after me and you're up before me every day too.'

'We have only been here three days,' said Cassy. Carefully, she avoided letting on how long she had been facing sleepless nights. It would only serve to make everyone worry. It was not fair for them and it was not something Cassy believed she could change.

Hermione gave her a sharp look, clearly stating her disbelief that it was a new development. Cassy said nothing in response and began twirling her quill in her hands once more, signalling her waning concentration.

'Just look after yourself, all right?' said Hermione with a small sigh.

Despite nodding her head in acceptance, Cassy found herself up in the early hours of the morning the next day. The dim gas lamp that hung beside the bathroom mirror did little to persuade her she did not look tired and worn. A few good potions would set her straight and all she would need to do was find somewhere to brew them quickly in one of her free periods. If she had looked tired, someone surely would have made a remark already.

With a sigh, Cassy exited the bathroom and began her normal routine for the day. In the common room, Hermione had cast another appraising eye over her and while Cassy pretended not to notice, she could not help but shift her face away from her friend, if just slightly. Thankfully, neither Neville, nor Ginny appeared to have veered onto Hermione's train of thought. Cassy took safety in knowing Luna was unlikely to mention her ill complexion – if she did indeed have one as her brain had become fixated on since the conversation – and Harry was too absorbed in his Divination homework to notice if he wanted to.

Ginny sat opposite him, listing off the strangest dreams she could conjure for him to add to his Dream Diary. Having given up any hope of believability in the subject long ago, he jotted them down eagerly and even Neville took ideas to add to his own entirely false homework.

'I just don't dream,' he said when Hermione raised her eyebrow at his chart. 'If you think mine are bad, you should look at Ron's homework.'

'I can imagine,' assured Hermione. 'It would have been much more worthwhile if you had all just dropped the subject like Cassy and I did in third-year.'

'Technically, I never began it to drop it,' interjected Cassy distantly. Her eyes had drifted down to Harry's right hand. The skin was itched red, flat, but with thin irritable lines arching across the back of it. 'Harry, perhaps you should wash your hand. It is starting to become inflamed.'

Harry turned to her in surprise. His eyes darted down and his left hand slowly drew away from the raw skin of his right.

'Yeah, it's fine. I... I must have just touched something I'm allergic to,' he said.

Cassy's eyes narrowed. Harry had hesitated. He was lying. She leant a fraction closer, trying to get a better look, but he quickly stuffed it under the table. Staring flatly, she watched Harry stare blankly at his plate. He could not eat without his right hand, but that meant showing Cassy whatever was wrong with it. Slowly, he glanced back up at her and when he saw she was still very much attentive his eyes flickered down the table, his plate pushed away as if he was finished.

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Cassy did return to her own meal.

'Cassy,' said Harry suddenly.

She peered up at him.

'I just - '

The bell rang loudly through the hall in warning for changeover to the first class of the day.

Harry's mouth closed. He turned away, ducked beneath the table to scoop up his bag before he left for Divination with Neville in tow. Cassy and Hermione bid farewell to Ginny and set off to Ancient Runes.

The day followed much like the last, filled with work and homework, hardly any time to pause and converse beyond it, lest groans emit to signal the realisation half of the discussion had transferred onto their parchments, mid-way through their essays. Transfiguration burdened the Gryffindors with more homework to counter the Vanishing Spell they had just learnt, and Professor Grubbly-Plank was not as lax as Hagrid had been with work. He was less concerned with extras and more interested in what he could show them while they were there. Not being overly literate himself, Hagrid never felt inclined to set the long research projects like Professor Grubbly-Plank had done, set for the end of the month. With Ancient Runes no better, the evenings were full and it took Cassy well into the next evening to finish what she had been given that Wednesday.

Cassy and Hermione sat on one of the plush sofas in the Gryffindor common room. Books were piled between them, scraps of paper poking between the page and Crookshanks nestled somewhere in-between. With great relief, the two sighed heavily at the same time. The essays were slipped onto the coffee table in front and they heaved grateful groans as their bones cracked as they stretched and turned out of the position they had held for hours.

'It's only seven,' said Hermione as she eyed to clock on the mantelpiece. 'I can still get in some knitting.'

Cassy made a non-committal noise from the back of her throat. The crook of her arm rested on the bridge of her nose, dulling the ache that had long since risen in the dim light of the fire.

'I will be back soon. Make sure no one takes my seat,' she said to Hermione.

A hot chocolate from the kitchens was exactly what Cassy needed; in her opinion, there was very little they could not fix and a growing headache was certainly one of them. That and, she thought to herself as she squinted at the bright reflections of the marble staircases, she was never allowing Hermione to sit closer to the lamp and take up the good light for another three hour study session. She was merely relieved her work was finally caught up. There was no mercy to break the students in for the year; it was if the teachers had expected them to do half the work over the summer ready for the autumn term, and while Cassy had, it did not mean she had the time to right the foot long essays each night. To her knowledge, Harry had not even started his homework.

Cassy stared distantly across the entrance hall, her glazed eyes slowly but still surely taking in the movements of the passing portraits as the staircases moved themselves at their leisure, with her feet firmly planted on the end. Distantly, low voices sounded, male and most likely older years from their dulcet tones. Lazily and disinterested, Cassy turned to peek at them from the corner of her eye. She heaved another sigh.

Shandy was on an opposing staircase, surrounded by four boys, each with a boyish grin that she had long since learnt only spelt trouble. There was a loud, wordless chortle when Shandy's dark eyes finally caught sight of her. Cassy did not dignify him with so much as a glance, but her ears were open and her eyes were watching the five shadows flicker in the candlelight, following each one as the boys began to move.

'Black,' called Shandy.

When Cassy failed to reply, one of the boys laughed, 'She doesn't want to speak to you, Ben.'

'Don't be so shy, Black,' he said, but Cassy ignored him once more. 'Hey, I am trying to be friendly, I wanted to let you know that the Slytherins have been speaking about you a lot lately.'

'Oh, yeah,' said a boy in a deep, Welsh accent. 'We've heard loads about you today.'

The boys broke out into giggles amongst themselves and yet Cassy still did not bite their bait. She began walking down the steps, her hand trailed along the bannister, making her descent look leisurely, as though they were not even there.

'I was curious about your Muggle mother. It's all a great secret really, isn't it? No one really knows what happened, but I have to say I was shocked when I heard she killed herself!'

Cassy almost had to halt to let the words register.

'Your cousin, Draco Malfoy, he's been telling us all about her,' said one of the boys excitedly. Another pushed him on the shoulder, moving to lean over the railings too.

'He had a lot to say about you, Black. Took him long enough to burst,' said another.

Cassy continued to walk.

'I must say, a madwoman and a serial killer, what a sad combination you are. No wonder even _Malfoy_ has given up on you,' rang Shandy's drawling voice. It echoed up and down the vast space of the entrance hall, sounding to the high ceilings a dozen floors up. ' "Emotionally unstable", that is what the _Prophet_ called you last year, isn't it?'

'You do not wish to test that theory with me,' said Cassy coolly. She only paused to stare when her feet reached stable ground. For several seconds, they held each other's gaze, Shandy's friends cooed and laughed around him until he turned his back swiftly and continued upwards. They trailed after him, their chortles still audible even when out of sight.

Despite her feet dutifully carrying her to the kitchens, Cassy's mind was whirling in another direction entirely. Her mother, her blonde, sickly mother; Jane Lowe: the Muggle. An image flashed in her mind. Her mother, her long gown down to her knees, her long hair drifting over her shoulders, becoming dark as it did, her face becoming sharper and suddenly it was Cassy, mad, deranged, fearful, unstable, drowning in a sea she did not understand and could not begin to, wailing for a man who did not want her. Cassy shuddered. Her mother embodied ignorance and dependency, to weaknesses she had always feared because of her.

It did not matter, she told herself as she tickled the pear on the portrait. Her mother was dead and gone. Her mistakes were not Cassy's to right. It was irrelevant now. However, what was not, was Draco. Her hands shook with anger and her lips pulled painfully, desperately trying to fold down into a snarl as she tried to politely request a drink from the house-elves.

Everything changes when you are no longer friends, thought Cassy. Astoria had told her Draco had spoken to Shandy, someone he claimed to loathe the year prior. Suddenly they were allies too.

Her parents were a topic she never discussed and had never discussed growing up. They had been taboo, simply out of the question, and Cassy had only crossed that line once when she chose to disclose her worst fears to Harry two years ago.

'Look where that got me,' she scoffed quietly to herself. The hot chocolate was on the side next to her, steam swirling from the mug carelessly.

Her hands were itching. They flexed and writhed at her sides with the desire to stalk down to the Dungeons, grab Draco and shake him until his mind was as addled as hers. She wanted to know what he thought he was doing and where he had got the idea it was all right at all. For all of their fights, Cassy had never once dreamed of doing such things, but perhaps she was too kind. Perhaps Gryffindor had changed her more than she expected. Perhaps she was the one who was simply not up to the standards she should have been. After all, no one would want to befriend and follow the word of someone who set herself up so openly.

A small voice, Neville's perhaps, in the back of her head scolded her for thinking as such. She sighed deeply into her drink. The house-elves looked on with nervousness, fearing she was dissatisfied with their work, but Cassy did not see it. She was still thinking too hard to notice them flutter.

Her mother had not killed herself. She had become ill one winter and bore no will to fight it. Even magic could not preserve life unfailingly. Guilt grew in Cassy's stomach. It had been the same year that Cassy had last visited, the very same that she was promised never to return.

The cup clattered noisily on the counter. This type of thinking was not productive, she told herself over and over. She knew nothing of her mother. There could have been a thousand reasons that lead to what happened. She knew nothing of her mother. It could have been anything, she could have been of weak mind and easily influenced and subject to an unsteady life anyway. She knew nothing of her mother. She knew nothing at all.

She pushed those thoughts aside. They were irrelevant.

Slowly, Cassy let herself sink to the floor. Her back was against the cabinet and the house-elves fussed around her. Time began to tick away, the clock changing position faster than she could have liked. If she could have sat there for the night she would have, but she did not think it wise to trudge back to collect her things the next morning. The questions would be worse than the effort now.

There were many things Cassy did not come to terms with as she sat in place. Many were things she doubted she ever could. Many were things that had bothered her, thoughts that had drifted somewhere at the back of her mind always and so were never surprising when they surfaced, but also raised the question of why and where they had come from. Her mother was always amongst one of those, her father was too for a time. Alphard had never been, but he too was surely finding his way into the drifting thoughts she could never settle.

Draco was not there though. Her hollow sadness soon gave way to burning anger and she merely wanted to hit him, to shove him to the floor and swing her arms until his face looked as terrible as she felt. Not that she had the time for that, it would take far too long to achieve, although she was sure she had the effort buried somewhere within to make a start.

Astoria was sure to all ready know and would report back on who had said what soon enough. Stephen would undoubtedly hear from either Astoria or Shandy before Cassy had a chance to see him. She expected the whole school to know by the end of the week. Damage control was essential. She wanted to speak to Zabini anyway, it was merely a means of finding an opening.

What bothered her almost equally to the lie was Shandy himself. Cassy had not known him to have friends. She had seen him many times with associates, students who laughed at what he said with no real amusement, but the smiles of these boys had reached their eyes. They pushed and shoved, they joked and laughed with one another easily; they were friends and Shandy was at the centre. Never had he been so open with his teasing before either. It was always by herself one on one, or in the presence of Stephen, who Shandy seemed to regard as an extension of himself more often than not and so did not matter. He had changed. Cassy was unwilling to put her finger on how far and why.

With her mind successfully back in work-mode to tackle the mystery that was her irritating acquaintance, Cassy finally set off for Gryffindor Tower once again. It was as if the anger and sadness were squashed beneath her new thought, taking second priority to her cross curiosity. Cassy was still debating how he might have gained friends since spring when she entered the final stretch towards the portrait of the Fat Lady. Outside it stood two figures, both of whom turned at the sound of her footsteps.

Cassy waved her hand dismissively. 'I all ready assumed you were trying out for the team, Ron. No need to hide your broom.'

Ron, who had hastily shoved the Cleansweep behind his back at the sight of her, blushed deeper and relaxed. Beside him, Harry frowned.

'Are you all right?' he asked quickly.

'Why do you ask?' she said, only then stopping.

'Your voice is tense,' he said. 'That means something is wrong.'

Cassy was unsure what exactly her tense voice would sound like, or even how Harry would hear it, but she did not ask. Instead, Cassy continued to stare flatly at him and said, 'Why would you care?'

It was unfair, harsh, and unneeded, and Harry flinched. Cassy felt some of the residual anger slip away, yet she said nothing and instead turned to the Fat Lady, stating the password as she looked between her and Harry interestedly. Before Cassy could step through more than a step, however, Harry had grabbed her arm. He followed in after her and the door creaked shut.

'What's happened?' he asked, now scowling. 'Has someone upset you?'

Instead of replying, Cassy turned to stare at his hand on her arm in contempt. Then, there on his hand, was a small, raised series of bumps. They stretched across the back of his hand, raw at the centre and certainly shaped like letters with their sharp lines.

'What is that on your hand?' she demanded.

'I'll tell you if you answer me first,' retorted Harry.

Cassy pursed her lips. 'Draco is telling the Slytherins about my mother.'

Harry's grip slackened in surprise.

'Your hand,' she reminded quickly.

'Umbridge had been making me write lines with a quill that uses my blood as ink,' he said in one breath. 'Why would Malfoy - ?'

'A _Blood Quill_?' hissed Cassy. 'Harry, you have to tell someone!'

'I can't. Dumbledore has enough to deal with,' he said.

'You have spent all summer scornful towards him, you don't care that much for what is easy,' she said with narrowed eyes. 'You do not want Umbridge to think you are a coward for running to authority against her, do you?'

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again. 'It will only make things worse if I do. You said it yourself, she was placed here by the Ministry. Fudge thinks I am a liar. Nothing I say will have her shifted and so it will only make things worse on myself if I tell.'

'You have a point,' sighed Cassy, regretfully.

'What do you mean that Malfoy is telling people about your mum?' he asked again.

Cassy shook her head. 'I don't want to discuss it,' she said. Hearing the words swirl around in her own mind was bad enough, but to hear them from someone else's mouth was far worse. It made it sound too real.

Harry shifted on the spot uncertainly. For a moment, Cassy stared at the ground and the pair said nothing to one another, but neither left. Biting her lip, Cassy wondered if it was the moment she should tell him how she felt; it was not ideal, but timing never would be and it was best she got it out of the way. It would only drive her mad and he surely knew all ready. She should have steeled her nerves and kept calm around Chang if she wanted it to remain a secret. It was then or never.

'Harry, I need to tell you something,' she said, squaring her shoulders.

'Yeah?'

Cassy drew in a deep breath, 'Harry, I -' She was drowned out by deafening jeering.

They both turned their heads. The portrait hole had opened only feet from them and Fred and George had jumped through, dressed in orange with a bronze glow to their freckled skin. The common room was alight with laughter.

'Step aside, children, step aside,' they called, pushing their way past Cassy and Harry.

'Madam Pomfrey gave us the all clear, but we might be stuck like this for several days,' announced George.

'It has given us a new idea for instant glowing tan! You can look fabulous all year round,' said Fred, with a wink to a group of sixth-year girls.

Many students laughed and Cassy was not sure what she had missed before arriving back in the common room, a crowd of pre-gathered students were cackling near the twins all ready, but she found her confidence suddenly gone. Relief flared in her stomach, she had never been so grateful for an interruption or else she would have made a huge mistake.

'What were you saying?' asked Harry.

'Nevermind,' said Cassy. 'It was not that important.'

It was useless anyway, he would never feel the same. If he all ready knew he had not confronted her, so he would not feel the same, yet she was more interested in the innocent expectancy on his face. He did not know. She was certain of it now and she had very nearly made a huge mistake.

* * *

When she awoke the next morning, Cassy felt more alive than she had for a long time. She had slept early and was up after Hermione. Her friend peered curiously at her from the corner of her eyes when she believed Cassy to be looking away and she smiled slightly to herself as if pleased.

Harry had greeted her at breakfast. She parroted it back to him. Neville's eyes lit up at the exchange and he sank comfortably between them at the table for the first time in days.

Friday dragged much like the rest of the week, with promises of more late nights studying and endless streams of stressed chatter from the Gryffindors as they all struggled to manage their time. Cassy had always read more than anyone, with the exception of Hermione, but it had always been effortless. There was something easy about working when it was done for her own curiosity rather than a forced ethic of panicked cramming as the teachers began to realise how much content their syllabus had failed to teach the firth-years time after time.

It was a welcomed relief Friday evening when Cassy walked down the sloping hills towards the Quidditch pitch with Ginny after dinner. Although Ginny had not known Ron was auditioning for the House Team until she saw him garbed in leather his broom nervously in his hands down on the pitch, she had insisted Cassy go with her to watch. She had tried to coach Neville and Hermione away too, but they both insisted they stayed to work; Cassy had a suspicion Hermione merely wanted to continue her knitting for the night.

At least a dozen people stood below on the pitch. They were spread, despite appearing in a gaggle, not speaking to one another, but occasionally glancing to judge each other's weaknesses and strengths as each prepared to be called up. In another group was the current Gryffindor team, set to negotiate membership of those auditioning as a whole, although none looked keen.

Cassy could not tell how anyone was performing, with the exception of one exceedingly poor try-out that saw the young girl leave the stadium in tears before the final throw. Ginny hissed and mumbled beside her, too quiet for Cassy to follow. They whispered to one another, carefully blocking the sound with their hands as the other spectator Gryffindors crossed their fingers for good luck for their friends. Cassy laughed, throwing a hand over her mouth to stop it echoing across the pitch. Beside her, Ginny grinned cheekily and Cassy nudged her in reprimand.

They giggled and mumbled the whole way through and as Ron was finally drawing up to the line, it struck Cassy that she was actually enjoying herself. It had been a time since it had been so effortless. It was as if the concerns had melted away, or taken secondary importance to what was happening, even though that was merely Quidditch, which Cassy often found exceedingly dull in itself unless friends were playing. She smiled at Ginny as she stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled for her brother.

Even from the distance it was easy to tell Ron was bright red, blending superbly with his crimson jersey. Katie Bell doubled around the pitch with a Quaffle in hand to shoot.

'Only when he thinks no one is looking! Oh, Ron, that was a great save. If only you did that the other three times,' exclaimed Ginny with a groan. She turned to Cassy. 'Shocking, wasn't he? There were definitely two better, but Vicky Frobisher has too many clubs, she'll be a liability for sure.'

'Oh?' said Cassy, ,hoping she sounded somewhat enthusiastic for the sport.

Ginny seemed not to notice. Her attention was firmly on the following two competitors, her mind cataloguing how they compared to her brother, certainly, but Cassy had not watched to judge and she felt her mind drifting once more. She nearly missed the entire reason she was there.

When the final player touched ground, the stands fell silent. They could not hear what was said, but as Angelina threw out her arm in Ron's direction, Ginny let out a thunderous applause. Cassy followed suit and somewhere down below, she could see Fred and George do the same, in a delayed, stunned sort of way. They passed Ron, clapped him on the back and continued out of the stadium before anyone else had begun to move.

Cassy and Ginny found Ron in the same position he had been when they had started their descent. He turned to them slowly, as if in shock, before a large grin pulled on his lips.

'I'm the Keeper,' he said to them.

'So we've heard,' said Ginny. 'Congratulations.'

'I'm the Keeper,' repeated Ron. His smiled slipped. '_I'm the Keeper. _Why did she pick me? Everyone was better than me.'

'Obviously not, or Angelina wouldn't have picked you,' said Ginny and flicked her red hair over her shoulder.

Her words seemed to cheer Ron up immensely and cut any growing self-doubt off before it could blossom. Despite having been present, Ron re-explained the entire try-outs to them, going over each person's attempts and growing steadily more confident as they approached the Tower that he had performed exceptionally. By the time the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, he was giddy with excitement.

The common room was alive with chatter. Someone had all ready spread the word and students reached out to pat Ron's back as he passed, spreading congratulations as they made their way over to the small table Neville and Hermione were seated at in the corner.

'You made it then?' said Hermione with a bright smile.

'Yeah, somehow,' said Ron, beaming.

'Well done! I told you you could,' she said.

'That's great,' praised Neville.

'Where did Fred and George disappear to anyway? They left quickly,' remarked Ginny, but Ron just waved his hand.

'They said they were going to "acquire" some Butterbeer to celebrate.'

'Not from the kitchens, I hope,' said Hermione warningly.

Ron shrugged. 'It's one night and I certainly don't mind!'

As the team began to draw back into the room, the noise only increased and Hermione had undone her knitting for the third time before she gave in and took refuge in the dormitory for the night. Not a moment after she had vanished, cheers broke out as Fred and George held up the bottles they had scavenged from downstairs and it was not long before Lee Jordan carried down his radio to add to it all.

Soon, Cassy found herself seated beside Dean. He looked on in amusement, half-finished homework in his lap and one ear listening out for Ron's retelling of his triumph.

'I'm glad he's got it. He was acting so weird leading up to it that I thought it had to be the try-outs, even though he didn't tell us he was going for it,' said Dean. 'I remember last summer how that was always the position he wanted to play, you know, when we all played Quidditch? I figured he'd go for it.'

'I do not recall playing,' said Cassy, her chin on the palm of her hand, 'but I had a feeling he would audition too. I don't think he wanted anyone to know in case he failed'

Behind her was a loud choking noise and suddenly something wet and red rolled across the stone floor, stretching from one end to the other. Cassy craned to get a better look. Her eyes followed it from one end to the other, noting with a distinct distaste that it was, in fact, attached to someone's head. With their mouth wide open, a third-year boy stood with his tongue no less than twenty-foot long. Fred and George howled with laughter on either side, their hands full of bright sweets.

'Honestly,' breathed Cassy. She was relieved Hermione was not there to see it.

Behind the boy, the portrait hole opened and Harry stepped through, his hair more dishevelled than normal and his lips parted ever-so-slightly, as if panting softly. Immediately, his eyes scanned the room and honed in on Cassy within seconds. The crowd was forcibly parted and his hand wrapped tightly around Cassy's arm and she was pulled from the chair before she could utter a parting word to Dean.

The noise of the room would mask what Harry urgently wanted to say, but it did not stop Cassy from having other ideas. She pulled his hand back towards her, her eyes raking over the tiny pearls of blood seeping from the sharp lines etched into the skin.

'You need to wash this,' she said as he tried to wriggle out of her grip.

'Yeah, all right, but listen,' he said quickly, 'when I was in Umbridge's classroom I got this weird feeling, I don't know what it was, but it's like the ones I get when Voldemort's nearby. I think she might be being controlled by him.'

Without missing a beat, Cassy said, 'I think she might just be vile, but do go on.'

'I'm serious. I got this weird twinge like I always do. Something's wrong with her,' he said.

'If you are worried, then perhaps take your concerns to Professor Dumbledore,' she said. There was a faint scepticism that had leaked into her voice. The world was not comprised of Good and Death Eaters. The pain was concerning, but with the other twinges Harry had been having over the summer, it could possibly have been a coincidence and she voiced this as Harry shook his head.

'I can't tell Dumbledore. I'll ask Sirius, he'll have an idea,' he said quickly.

'Fine, but watch what you write in case the post is intercepted. Imagine the news story that would emerge from that,' agreed Cassy, dully.

Harry peered thoughtfully over her head for a moment. Cassy moved to take a step back, their whispering over and the closeness of their bodies noticeable even amongst the shifting crowd. She managed only half a step before Harry seized her arm again.

'I'm sorry,' he said suddenly, his eyes narrowed seriously. 'I'm sorry for snapping at you the other day. It's just... I find the disbelief difficult to deal with, especially as everyone seemed to believe me before summer and now they jump at the first chance they get to knock me down and discredit me. Umbridge is... Impossible. She's disgusting.'

Cassy knew all of that. She had long since recognised the reasoning, but it did not mean she had liked it.

'Just try not to snap at me again and I will try to work out a way to get more people to believe you,' she said.

'Deal,' he agreed eagerly.

'We have to do it my way,' she said pointedly. 'No more of this hurling abuse nonsense.'

Harry shrugged and grinned. 'I'll try, but I make no promises.'

* * *

**Some heavy emotional bits from Cassy. It is difficult to get a balance between dealing with what is going on and having her emotionally connected enough. There is a lot going on with her, I mean, Harry is basically angsting through the entire book, so Cassy can have a little give on that.**

**The actual plot should begin getting a move on soon as Harry starts getting his brain together so we can move along. **

**I have had some lovely reviews so far, please keep them coming! **

**Thanks!**


	12. Friends and fire-calls

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XII: Friends and fire-calls**

'Harry is going to suffer,' said Hermione flatly.

'I know,' agreed Cassy, not looking up from her book. The scraping of a quill sounded beside her noisily; Hermione had returned to writing, her mind finally having retracted from the bright light of the morning sun visible through the slitted window of the Gryffindor Tower.

'He really should have done his homework through the week instead of saving it until tonight to do,' continued Hermione.

Cassy let out a non-committal hum.

'He should be here instead of helping Ron fly before training.' Hermione's stress at juggling her own work was melting over into an aggravated concern for everyone else, much as it had in Third-year when she had possession of the Time Turner. Cassy was careful not to feed into it.

'I would do the same thing, to be fair,' piped Ginny from the armchair across from them. 'I would love to be on the team.'

'Try out next year then,' said Cassy distantly.

'I intend to. I want to be a Chaser. I already know a fair bit about flying. I used to take my brothers' brooms since I was six and go flying in secret, but they don't know that,' said Ginny and Cassy and Hermione laughed.

Despite having a very productive first day of term, Harry had let all of his work pile up to the weekend. The spirit that seemed to propel him along so bizarrely in Potions had long since vanished. After detention, he never had much desire to work, or do much of anything but sleep, his work piling to the point he did not even know where to begin, so he was simply not.

Neville, on the other hand, had begun everything, but was nowhere to be seen that Saturday morning. He had left breakfast early with Luna by his side and had failed to return. No one questioned them, none of them having full comprehension of their friendship or the patience to sit and figure it out.

Harry did not return from flying until lunch, where he slunk into the Great Hall with Ron by his side, both looking thoroughly miserable. The pair of them thudded down into seats and sluggishly began to pile their plates with food that they pushed from place to place.

'What's wrong?' asked Ginny.

'I'm sure you'll do better next time,' said Hermione warmly.

Her smile was met with an icy gaze. Ron scowled at her and pushed his plate back loudly.

'Think I did badly, do you? Thanks, Hermione,' he snapped.

'No, I only thought - ' she said quickly.

'You only thought I'd do badly and that's why everyone is down? Yeah, cheers,' he growled, before he swung his gangly legs over the bench and stalked from the hall without having eaten a thing.

'Don't be such a git!' called Ginny loudly after him, ignoring the curiously turned heads.

'So, what did happen then?' asked Cassy lowly.

Harry shifted in his seat and sighed. 'Training was horrible. Katie had one of the twins' sweets by mistake and no one could stop the bleeding, so she had to go in. Fred and George took her guiltily and we couldn't train without Beaters and one Chaser down. Ron was just nervous.'

Everyone understood what "just nervous" really meant. He had been awful. He had probably not caught a single Quaffle all practice and his failure had only added to the frayed nerves of the team. Harry was too kind to say it though and no one called him out on it either, content with mutual glances between the three girls.

'The Slytherins were there too,' continued Harry, his tone even duller than before. 'It took most of my effort to not smack Malfoy, let alone concentrate on the Snitch.'

He watched Cassy from the corner of his eye, but she was doing the same back to him. Her expression remained neutral and her tone calm.

'Perhaps you should have just swung a Bludger at him and be done with it. I am sure the twins would not have minded in the slightest,' she said pleasantly.

Cassy took a long sip of her pumpkin juice. Carefully, she did not look at the alarmed and curious stares of Hermione and Ginny, but kept her eyes down on the plate of half-eaten food in front of her. She did not want to discuss her estranged cousin then or at any other time.

Anyway, she reasoned, Harry would soon ask and everyone would find out that way. There was no need to bring it up over lunch.

The four of them only remained in the hall for a few minutes longer before heading back to the Tower. Cassy and Hermione were determined to finish all of their homework by the evening so they could have Sunday free, while Ginny was content to play cards by herself on the floor in the meantime. Harry, however, began to make gradual progress in all subjects, swapping and changing from one to another as his attention waned.

By dinner, Cassy and Hermione had stretched their limbs and entered a frustrating, challenging tournament of chess in which they were the only competitors. With a draw in wins with five each, they agreed to call and halt and followed Harry and Ginny down to the meal with little protest. Neville was present at the Gryffindor table, with Luna sat opposite. They were talking merrily, breaking only to greet their friends as they sat around them, before they continued to speak as if no one else was there.

Having eaten quickly, Cassy dismissed herself before dessert.

'I will see you all back in the common room,' she said as she stood.

'Where are you off to?' asked Ginny.

'To see Stephen,' replied Cassy easily.

'Why?' questioned Harry. He was frowning again and Cassy could not place why he seemed to dislike the Ravenclaw so much, but she did not want to dive into that right then. He would only dismiss it.

'Because,' she said, straightening out her skirt, 'I have not been able to see him properly all week, nor write as much as I would have liked over summer.'

Harry's expression did not ease, but Cassy turned and strode from the room without another word. She stood beside the large, double doors that lead to the grounds. They were wide open. A light, cool breeze drifted through into the entrance hall, teasing at the chill that was sure to come as the weather continued to worsen and Britain was forced to say farewell to summer once more. The sky was already beginning to darken each evening, earlier and earlier, and Cassy found herself waking before sunrise more often as the days began ever shorter.

People passed her without comment. She passively gazed at each one; her eyes, trained for detail, noted each time their shoulders tensed, or how lips threatened to upturn in a condescending grin. Many more passed her without a single sign of acknowledgement beyond perhaps a glance. The stares were nothing compared to what was given to Harry when they believed no one to be looking, but she was not the one claiming Voldemort had returned, threatening to upheave their lives in the worst of ways; she was also a Black and despite being in Gryffindor, Cassy could not claim that it diminished the wariness attached to her family name. She was rather pleased for it too. People would be more likely to try and ridicule them if they did not fear she might either hospitalise them or complain to her convicted, mass-murdering, first-man-to-escape-Azkaban father. It was a fear that had never quite recovered from Third-year, but she did not really mind anymore.

'Let them be fools,' she mumbled to herself. 'Let them fear it too though.'

Her eyes had slid to the students leaving the hall. Stephen was not amongst them, but other recognisable faces were. Leading the small group was Draco, with Pansy by his side. She giggled and sneered at the sight of Cassy, her shrill shriek echoed across the hall.

Cassy kept her eyes level with Parkinson. She would not be cowed by such a petty girl.

Parkinson seemed to note the stare. Suddenly, her hand levelled with her neck, then drew up and away sharply as her head snapped to the side. She gasped and choked in what appeared to be an imitation of a noose.

Cassy watched with a flat stare. She suspected it was a jab at her mother's apparent suicide and the cackling that broke out amongst them merely confirmed it, but Cassy did not even care. Her attention moved to Draco; he was not looking at her, only at Parkinson with a sparing smile on his pale face.

'A bit too close to home, Black?' cawed Parkinson. 'Well, don't be rude! Acknowledge that I am speaking to you! I don't know why I'm surprised. Manners don't come easily to Muggles. It must have tainted your blood.'

'How original, Parkinson. You have only had the last fifteen-years to come up with that. I must say I am impressed by the speed of your wit,' said Cassy levelly.

Parkinson growled.

'Careful, Pansy,' chortled Goyle. 'You wouldn't want to provoke her into madness like her parents. She might just hex us all like her parents!'

'If we're lucky, she might be more like her mum and just off herself though,' added Crabbe from behind him.

Everyone cackled and Cassy smiled grimly. It did not hurt. It was a lie. So false, so obviously false that not a single nerve twinged at the sound.

Draco, however, twitched.

'Is there a problem, Draco?' she asked smoothly, her voice too pleasant, too composed for anyone's liking but her own. The Slytherins stopped laughing and frowned at her once more.

'Don't refer to me so closely,' snapped Draco viscously. 'I don't want my name said by someone like you.'

'Like me?' she questioned patiently. 'A Black?'

'A traitor,' he spat.

There was no scathing laughter from his friends. Their faces looked absent, confused even. He clearly had not told them the whole story, not a single word of why he had pulled away from her, why he could now ridicule her when there was a silent agreement to leave her be each and every year before. They had not questioned it either, their faces showing no sign of curiosity or triumph at new knowledge, just surprised and unsteady, not knowing how to react when the argument was resting precariously on the boundary of becoming very real.

Cassy smiled wider, her grin more amused, triumphant, mocking – sadistic almost, as she shook her head.

'You should consider your house placement, if you so blindly accept such an obvious lie from your parents,' she said, her voice still patient and warm. 'Then again, you are too dependent for Ravenclaw, choosing nothing beyond the knowledge fed to you; too craven for Gryffindor, never to face your own wrongdoings when the time calls for it; too selfish for Hufflepuff, choosing yourself above all others when it comes to it, _traitorous_ to those you claimed to have mattered. Where else would you go but to the house you would like to think you are? Surely, one house must have other leeching, cowardly, self-obsessed, redundant members to match? Oh, there they are behind you. How silly of me!'

Cassy laughed falsely, high and sweet. She beat down a genuine laugh at the sights of their faces, each red and mortified, twisted in rage as their hands drew their wands from their pockets. Her own wand had slipped into her hand as she spoke, ready and waiting, anticipation high and ready for the fight if only they were willing to take the first step.

'Don't, said Malfoy suddenly. 'There's a hall full of people.'

So he has noticed, thought Cassy. A smile was burnt onto her lips, remaining long after it should have gone. It neither grew nor faltered as Malfoy's friends mumbled and put their wands away.

'She insulted you though!' said Parkinson, shrilly.

'The reason wouldn't matter. There are too many of us to get away with an attack on one person, especially not so close to the _Headmaster_,' said Malfoy coolly.

His eyes finally locked with Cassy's.

'Another time then,' said Parkinson.

Malfoy did not answer. He turned on his heel and headed straight for the dungeons. Slowly, with various sneers and glares, Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle followed him and Cassy was left by herself with only the rustling of the leaves outside and the dull chatter from the Great Hall to fill her ears.

Alphard would have clouted Malfoy for his insolence, but he would have grounded Cassy too for her reaction. Narcissa would have sorted Malfoy out quickly, forcing an apology to sort the matter before it became a fight. Yet, neither of them were there. Alphard was not there to be the bond anymore, and Narcissa – Mrs Malfoy, moreover, - was not there to drag them all into line with etiquette when even Alphard began to stray for his amusement. No one was there anymore.

'Sorry I'm late!' huffed Stephen suddenly. He jogged slowly to her side and raised a hand to remove his glasses. 'Natalia wanted to speak with me for once, so I got caught up.'

Cassy gave him a flat stare. If he had just been on time she would not have had to have the conversation she had with Malfoy.

'It is fine,' she said.

The two walked out onto the grounds. The sun had begun to lower, casting the green hills in a faint yellow light and forming long, weak shadows around the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They spoke of the week that had passed. Cassy explained about her Defence Against the Dark Art lessons, how tedious they were and the issues it had caused. Stephen snorted. He had heard all about Harry's outburst, the entire school had. His face became sober suddenly.

'I need this year to be good or I'll never get an Outstanding in my N.E. . If I get anything below that, I'll have to retake the test at the Adult Wizarding Education Centre the summer after seventh-year, or I'll never be accepted to be a Curse Breaker,' he explained with a bitter scowl.

'I know a Curse Breaker,' commented Cassy. 'His name is Bill Weasley. He worked in the Pyramids in Egypt for several years and has recently returned to work in Britain.'

'Egypt is fine, but it is a bit overdone by now, Wizards have been trying to get into there for years. Take me to China. That's where the best cases are,' said Stephen wistfully.

There was a short pause.

'If you know all about Harry then, do you know anything about what is thought of him?' asked Cassy. Her voice sounded casual, but the question was really anything but. Stephen glanced down at her, his hands were stuffed into his jacket pockets and he heaved out a heavy sigh. Cassy readied herself for the unpleasant news.

'I want to say there is a straight forward answer to that, but truthfully, there isn't,' he said. His brown eyes burnt brightly in the orange light of the setting sun. 'Honestly, I have friends in all the houses, most think _He_ is probably back, but none of them are willing to bet money on it. There is the issue of explaining how and why. If Potter could do that, his popularity would soar.'

'We do not know how he returned. Harry outlined a ritual, but he didn't really understand it all and I have looked, but... I don't believe it is something easy to come across. Otherwise everyone would be raising people from the dead,' admitted Cassy.

Between her reading on curses, Cassy had flicked through the occasional book for rituals. Not for herself, but to better understand what had happened, perhaps give Harry peace of mind if she could show him what he had been a part instead of brushing it aside as it had been. Yet, she had been unable to reassure him without it. He closed off when it was mentioned. His eyes flickered if Cedric was mentioned – guilt, so much guilt, and Cassy had no idea what to do for him. People were not her strength.

'With Umbridge asking students to tell on each other if they try to persuade others You-Know-Who had returned, support is going to be even harder to come by,' continued Stephen, having not noticed Cassy's internal woe.

'So, if you are well connected, what is it the Ravenclaws say?' queried Cassy.

She took a seat on one of the recumbent limbs of an old yew tree down by the lake. The water in front danced yellow and white from the light above, the shimmering black depths of the water rippled from the centre, spreading to the shores unevenly. Slowly, large, sweeping tentacles broke through the surface and the Giant Squid emerged. It remained immobile, simply floating effortlessly as it took in the last of the day's sun.

'We are divided on the whole,' said Stephen. 'Some think it is obvious that the greatest Dark Lord in history could bring himself back to life, but others struggle with the concept. There are too many questions and we happen to like our answers. Your friend, Luna Lovegood, isn't doing a great job of helping your cause, you know. She tells anyone who listens that You-Know-Who has returned, but given what people think of her, the response is less than brilliant.'

Cassy smiled.

'Hufflepuff, however, seem to be dubious. Largely they do believe because Dumbledore has said so, but again, it goes both ways. Slytherin is a pretty obvious house,' finished Stephen.

'They know Voldemort had returned but are not going to speak out about it because it does not benefit them to do so,' confirmed Cassy. She sighed deeply and looked to the sky. 'Half of them are Death Eater children, whether they follow the ideology or not themselves. It benefits no one to speak out in their cases. Keeping their heads above water at this point really is the most sensible action.'

'Have you told that to Potter when he runs his mouth?' asked Stephen in amusement.

'I might have,' grumbled Cassy.

Stephen laughed.

'Well, at least now you can tell Potter he does have support if he is willing to fight for it.'

Cassy was not sure Harry really was, but that was a thought for another time. Instead, she changed the subject, passing the conversation over easily into more comfortable territory for them both. They discussed school, summer, what Astoria has been up to, and how Natalia Faulks seemed to finally coming around to Stephen. They spoke for a while, the sun set before Cassy climbed back to the Gryffindor Tower. It was longer than she had expected, but it was not unwelcome. She had almost forgotten the incident with the Slytherins, until she sat opposite her friends at the tiny table they claimed in the common room. Her mind began to slow again, it began to whirl back to old thoughts and Cassy found that when it came to her family, supposed or not, she was utterly unable to push them to the back of her mind.

* * *

The weekend passed by uneventfully. As intended Cassy and Hermione had Sunday completely free, although Hermione had returned to researching House-elves and knitting, while Cassy had picked up one of her more questionable books with the front charmed to look like an old Potions textbook. Harry had cast an unappreciative eye over the cover, remarking that she was mad for studying already as he worked through his last essay. By lunch, he too was done and it was only Neville who remained with a heavy workload until late that night.

Ron, who was in much the same boat as Neville, sat by the fire, his eyes bloodshot and his head lolling occasionally as he fought off sleep. While the two had been exchanging ideas earlier on, it seemed to have petered off into silence. Their quills scratched slowly, illustrating each tired thought drawn from the recesses of their minds. Cassy was still waiting to be asked to help, but twelve hours into the work she had begun to suspect for the first time that Neville really did not want it. It made her slightly curious as to how his work was going, but she brushed it aside and continued in her game of Draughts against Ginny, both of whom were trying to learn the game at the same time.

Harry was content on the plush sofa. His long legs were stretched across it and his arm fell across his face, hiding his eyes. A book was abandoned on his chest from where he had made an attempt to read on in his studies. It had been abandoned half-an-hour later after being caught staring at the fire for the fifth time.

'Harry, go to bed,' said Ron sharply. 'You're making me jealous.'

'I'm not tired,' said Harry, not moving. 'It's just that this is the most time I have had to relax all week.'

'Good for you,' said Ron with a huff.

The edges of Harry's lips upturned into a sly smile and Cassy smiled so slightly at the sight of it. She turned back quickly at the quick taps as Ginny picked up a handful of her counters.

'That wasn't a fair move!' protested Cassy.

'It was, you weren't paying attention,' said Ginny.

'You cannot hop over like that to take that many, your turn should have ended there,' said Cassy, pointing to a spot on the board.

'Says who?' asked Ginny indignantly.

'Neville,' called Cassy sharply. 'Are you almost finished with your homework? We need you to referee the match.'

'Draughts shouldn't need a referee, but go on then. I have the conclusion to write,' said Neville slowly, clearly trying to retain the line of thought he had been scribbling down.

'Why is Neville your referee?' asked Harry. His arm had finally been lifted and he was peering at their game with lazy interest.

'Because it is his game,' said Cassy. 'He brought it over to Grimmy one day in the summer.'

'Not that we played much,' said Neville. 'It was about the time Kreacher burst the water pipe.'

'Ah, I heard about that,' said Harry. He could still clearly recall Cassy's scathing voice as she picked up the mirror-call shortly afterwards, covered in a layer of dust and splattered with water all down what appeared to be one of her more expensive dresses.

'Ron,' called Hermione.

'Can it wait?' asked Ron lowly as he continued to write.

'Ron, it's Hermes, isn't it?' said Hermione.

Everyone turned to the window. Sure enough, a dark owl was perched on the windowsill outside. A letter flapped in the wind tethered to his leg and he tapped the glass with his beak expectantly.

'Why is Percy writing?' asked Ginny, standing.

Ron hurried over to the window. He pulled it open and Hermes hopped inside and stuck out his leg. The letter was addressed to only Ron.

'Blimey, what does he want?' he muttered.

Ron sunk into the middle of the sofa once Harry had moved to sit up. Ginny quickly sat herself on his other side and all three of them peered curiously down at the letter before Ron ripped it from the envelope.

Cassy cast a light frown to Neville, who copied it back to her.

Hermione leant over the back of the sofa to read too. Everyone's expressions had darked after only a minute and Cassy was pleased with her decision to remain on the floor. It was none of her business what was going on internally with the Weasley family and it was clearly not good news she was missing out on.

It look only a moment for Ginny to exclaim, '"Continued fraternisation with that boy?" Who does he think he is?'

Harry's lips were pursed. 'What does he mean Dumbledore might not be in charge much longer?'

Exactly what it sounds like, thought Cassy as her mind placed the most likely purpose of the letter together. She had already told Harry the Ministry was interfering at Hogwarts. They had never liked the Headmaster and he had been supporting Harry's version of events over theirs. He was a threat, at least, more so than he had always been to Fudge.

She watched the four faces flicker and change in front of her. Neville had stopped writing to watch too. His frown had deepened and his lips curled downwards unhappily, as if awaiting the worst.

'Oh, please,' snorted Ginny loudly. 'The Ministry don't have a better view on anything, especially not Harry. Who is Percy trying to convince?'

'I don't get it,' said Ron, crumbling the letter suddenly in his hand. 'What does he think he's doing?'

'Trying to turn you against me,' said Harry dully. His green eyes had become glazed and his jaw set. 'You read it: "Unbalanced and violent".'

'Forget him, Harry,' said Hermione.

'How can he speak about our parents like that! He's done enough damage as it is. There's no need to insult them all over again!' hissed Ginny.

'You are going to have to calm down and tell Neville and I what was in the letter,' said Cassy rationally.

Ron looked down at the paper ball in his fists.

'Well,' said Hermione tentatively, 'Percy congratulated Ron on becoming Prefect and then said it might be best if he... refrained from associating with Harry because it might damage his future prospects.'

'If you want to "server ties" with me, I promise I won't be violent,' said Harry, his voice slightly wonky and he laughed.

'He is such a git!' growled Ron, ripping the paper up into tiny squares before hurtling them all at the fire. 'Ignore that, Harry. We have more important things to worry about and right now mine is my homework.'

Ron moved fluidly back to his previous chair. The parchment and quill were picked up once more and with new energy, Ron began to read back his last paragraph to himself.

'Oh, give it here,' said Hermione suddenly. A peculiar expression had taken over her features. 'I'll take a look if you promise never to leave your homework to the last minute again.'

Ron stared at her with the expression that Hermione had just saved his life.

'I should tell Fred and George what Percy wrote. If they knew he was calling our parents dangerously misguided and what not then they would have something to say about it,' grumbled Ginny as she slipped back into place opposite Cassy.

Cassy frowned. 'Perhaps you should leave the topic for now. Harry does not need to think about it anymore right now.'

Ginny scowled down at the board, yet nodded all the same.

A quick glance towards the raven-haired boy told Cassy that he was already sinking into deep thought about it. For once, his expression seemed not to be anger, but a generally thoughtfulness that Cassy suspected was prevailing due to his own tired mind failing to conjure anything deeper.

'Percy mentioned that Sturgis Podmore was a friend of Dumbledore's. Doesn't he work for the Order?' asked Harry suddenly.

Cassy was now very curious as to what Percy had written.

'Yeah. He seems to think he's a petty criminal though, that that's who our parent's associate with because of Dumbledore,' said Ron, frowning. 'A six-month sentence to Azkaban is hardly petty, is it?'

'I want to know what he was doing in the Ministry at one o'clock,' said Hermione.

'Moreover, what is inside that door he tried to enter,' added Cassy.

Podmore was not an unfamiliar name to the six of them. They had heard his coming and goings through the summer, although Cassy believed she had only seen him once, and her last memory was of Moody's muttered complaint that Podmore was becoming as unreliable as Fletcher at the station on September 1st.

'He was probably tricked into going there. I bet the Ministry framed him,' said Ron, excitedly. 'I mean, think about it. They suspected he worked for Dumbledore, so they lured him to the Ministry and framed him, except, he probably wasn't trying to get through a door at all. It was just a cover up for them trying to get rid of him.'

That raised the question of how someone was low profile as Podmore was discovered when the more precarious positions were still moving freely, but Hermione beamed over at Ron and nodded.

'That sounds very plausible. I wouldn't be surprised at all,' she said.

Cassy frowned slightly. She wanted to ask what Ron thought would have lured someone to the Ministry at that time, given that he was supposed to be working against Death Eaters and the Ministry did not believe they existed any longer. There was nothing that sprung to mind that would cause him to go, but she was unwilling to strike the possibility out completely. There was too much that she did not know about the Order. Catching her expression, Harry gave her his own dubious stare, just as doubtful as she was.

'Backtracking, if I may, you mentioned about the Headmaster not being in power,' said Cassy, turning the conversation to a more useful, interesting avenue.

Ron looked down at her. 'Oh, he said to look in tomorrow's paper and see. He never actually said what he meant. In fact, he was a bit vague on everything.'

Looking down at the Draught board, Cassy considered his words. Percy had written to Ron in the guise of congratulating him on his position as Prefect, while in reality warning him to stay away from Harry, whom Percy had known for years. He had criticised his parents, their weakness supposedly being their blind trust in Professor Dumbledore, who would no longer be trusted. Percy had moved on to support a higher authority then. He had always been loyal to the Headmaster when he was at school, but it seemed it was nothing more than a fickle connection born out of his desire to be figure of respected power himself. He was merely working his way up. Cassy respected ambition, but that boy had no loyalty and so no worth to take up her valuable thinking time.

She drew back from her thoughts quickly. Her eyebrows rose high as Harry slipped from the sofa and crawled along the carpet straight towards where she and Ginny sat. He passed them, halting to kneel behind Ginny where she sat in front of the fire.

'Harry, what are you doing?' asked Neville, breaking his silence.

'I saw Sirius in the flames,' replied Harry. His head was bent low to the burning fire.

'Really?' asked Cassy. She crawled past Ginny and sat on Harry's other side in front of the grate.

'I swear,' said Harry.

Cassy reached up to push Harry's forehead back, muttering distantly that he would burn his face if he got any closer. Her eyes were trained on the fire too and she heard shifting behind her as the other's moved to peak at the orange glow.

'Like he did in the Triwizard Tournament, you mean?' asked Hermione as she stood stooped behind Cassy.

Neville and Ron joined them too and Cassy was suddenly aware of how odd the sight would be if anyone was to enter the common room at that moment. Instead of focusing on that, she kept her attention on the waving flames and brightly burning logs at the bottom of the stone fireplace. They continued to flicker and crackle softly, uninterrupted by any strange faces, or surprising voices; that is, until the flames contorted suddenly in front of her, showing an angular face and long dark-hair staring back at her.

'Sirius!' gasped Hermione.

He grinned back at them.

'What are you doing here?' asked Harry quickly.

'Answering your letter, of course,' said Sirius, as if it was obvious.

Everyone turned to Harry.

'What letter?' demanded Hermione.

'Why did you write a letter?' questioned Ginny.

'Has something happened?' queried Neville, concerned.

'I forgot to mention it, besides, it wasn't anything serious. I just wrote a letter,' defended Harry quickly. 'Besides, Cassy knew.'

Cassy pursed her lips. He has taken her advice and written about his scar hurting. That was a very serious issue. 'I was unaware you actually followed through with it.'

'See, even Cassy didn't know,' pointed out Ron.

'Why were you writing to him though?' repeated Hermione.

'Just some stuff. Nothing to worry about, but my scar hurt again the other day, so I thought I'd write,' said Harry.

'Harry, that is very serious! You should have gone to Dumbledore,' said Hermione sharply.

'Oh, yeah, because that's the only part of me he cares about, isn't it? And I was going to tell you, but you started talking about knitting and asked me to help and Hermione, I just can't knit.' Harry shrugged, his eyebrows raising higher and higher the longer he spoke.

'Well, neither can Hermione really, can she?' reassured Ron.

'What's that supposed to mean?' snapped Hermione.

'Well, have you ever looked that those things you call hat?' asked Ron with a shrug.

'For your information, they do not look like "woolly bladders"!' growled Hermione.

'Yeah, they do,' said Ron dismissively. 'And Cassy thinks so too. She laughed when I said it.'

'I did not,' lied Cassy immediately. 'Leave me out of this.'

Beside her, Cassy heard quiet laughter. She turned to see her father's head bobbing amongst the flames joyfully as he watched everyone bicker, the meaning of the conversation long lost. He caught her gaze, his grey eyes crinkling in mirth. She sighed and he sniggered.

'How are you?' he asked. His voice seemed to break through the argument and everyone began to settle down again.

'I am fine. What about yourself?' she responded, feeling as though it was only a partial lie.

'I'm the same as always. I am glad to see school's cheered you up a bit. You were thunderous when you left. It reminded me a lot of Regulus,' said Sirius, his nose crinkled slightly.

School had done quite the opposite, but calmly, she repeated, 'I am fine, really,' and Sirius nodded in acceptance before turning back to Harry.

'While I am glad everyone is so lively, this is not the best method of communication, so I probably can't stay too long,' he said, looking between them.

'Right,' said Harry.

'First, your scar. I know it must be uncomfortable when it hurts like it does, but we talked it over and decided it is probably not anything to be immediately worried about. It ached all of last year, after all,' relayed Sirius calmly.

'Yeah, I know. Dumbledore said it happened when Voldemort experienced a powerful emotion. So, you don't think it has anything to do with Umbridge?' asked Harry.

'I doubt it. She's vile, but the world is not split into Death Eaters and good people. If you want to know how awful she is you should speak to Remus. She drafted a piece of Anti-Werewolf legislation a few years back that prevents Remus finding work. However, she is no Death Eater known to us.'

'Is she scared of them then? Werewolves?' asked Cassy curiously.

'All half-breeds,' clarified Sirius. 'She campaigned to have merpeople all tagged last year, but imagine wasting time on that when there are toe-rags like Kreacher running loose.'

Hermione made a noise of indignation, but Harry and Ron laughed.

'What are Umbridge's lessons like then?' continued Sirius the moment Hermione opened her mouth to protest. 'The Ministry doesn't want you learning anything useful.'

'Anything that can be used against them,' added Cassy and Sirius grinned at her.

'Exactly.'

'_Use against them_?' echoed Neville, frowning.

'What, like we're building some sort of wizard army to revolt?' asked Harry, incredulous.

'Exactly that. That is Fudge's worst fears,' said Sirius. He sounded awfully amused as if he could think of absolutely nothing better than a child army turning against the Minister of Magic. Cassy knew Fudge was paranoid and she reasoned the lack of practical lessons to be due to fear of Harry's support, but not that he would go as far as to fear an overthrow. They wanted to protect themselves, not _usurp_ the government.

'How ridiculous!' cried Hermione.

'Is Dumbledore going to do anything about it? We've heard something is going to be in the paper tomorrow about him,' said Ron eagerly.

Sirius' face lost its amusement. His eyebrows dropped and his lips turned down bitterly. He said, 'I haven't seen anyone from the Order for a while now. They all vanished when you did.'

Appearing in the fire was nothing more than a way to communicate with someone besides Kreacher, Cassy thought.

'I expect they're just busy with Order stuff,' offered Neville kindly, but Sirius did not appear assured at all. If anything, his eyes darkened further.

'And Hagrid?' asked Harry, as if sensing the impending rage.

'Don't worry about it. We have been told he is fine. No contact has been made since he was separated from Madam Maxine, but we would know if something had happened. A half-giant is rather hard to miss and Hagrid isn't easy to bring down. Madam Maxine seemed to think he would be fine too, so we will wait and see,' explained Sirius simply.

'So, no one knows where he is?' asked Harry in alarm.

'Not exactly, but Dumbledore is certain he is fine,' said Sirius.

Everyone looked at each other sceptically. It was impossible to tell that Hagrid was fine, but he was a half-giant and they were less than easy to subdue. Yet, Cassy could not help but worry as to why he found himself separated from Madam Maxine. Sirius had not said if they were separated willingly or through battle, but surely if it was the latter then they would be more concerned for his health. Hagrid must have willingly split ways, but Cassy was back to the question of why.

'You know,' said Sirius slowly after a moment of silence, 'I can always come and meet you all on your next Hogsmeade weekend.'

'No!' they all called together.

Sirius was taken aback.

'You could be caught,' said Hermione quickly.

'I'll go as Padfoot,' he combated easily.

'Malfoy knows something about that – he made a remark, but that doesn't matter. If you're caught, you'll be put straight back in Azkaban. Just, just say where you are for a bit longer, okay?' implored Harry. He almost sounded as if he was pleading, as if he knew how desperate Sirius was to escape in any way possible like Cassy did. She had witnessed it day in and day out when it had just been the two of them. She knew how overwhelming the sensation of entrapment that the house generated by simply setting foot through the door. Cassy would not admit it, but she would love to see her father. He had been a calming force through the months; he was someone who empathised and allowed her room to breathe, he never expected more of her than she was willing to give and she loathed to say it but she had become attached very quickly to him.

'The risk would have made it fun for James.'

She was very attached to her father who was acting like a complete child.

She looked down at his flickering face with a frown. Sirius was frowning too, his lips pulled thin.

'You're less like your father than I thought,' he said flatly.

Cassy's face dropped into a scowl.

'I have to go, I think Kreacher must be coming,' he said. There was a bang and a clatter from behind him. 'Kreacher is definitely coming. Write soon and stay out of serious trouble.'

With those departing words, Sirius was gone. The flames flickered blankly, lacking any sort of eyes and there was no voice to answer back. Harry stared at the burning logs for a moment, before he rose and stretched his back.

'Well, I think I will go to bed now then,' he said.

Cassy jumped to her feet before any of the others. She heard muttering break out, but Cassy did not stop to see if any of it was directed at her. Her hands trailed around the edge of the entrance and up the cold stones of the boys' stairwell. Harry had moved quickly. He paused mid step to turn to her with surprise across his face.

'Cassy?' he said, blinking.

'Um,' said Cassy. Suddenly, she felt very foolish. There should have been some sort of plan in her mind of what to say. Now, she simply stood staring at him, her mouth half-open and ready for words that struggled to appear in her brain, let alone make it to her mouth. In the end, she shook her head and blurted, 'Don't take what my father said to heart. He is just angry because he is alone and that has nothing to do with you. Besides, you are not James, but just Harry and that is better.'

_Just_ Harry? Cassy groaned internally. What a stupid thing to say, she thought, how childish she sounded. How unnecessary.

'Just Harry?' repeated Harry, blankly.

'Yes,' said Cassy awkwardly, wishing she had not bothered at all. 'To me you are Harry, not the Boy-Who-Lived, not the famous liar, not James Potter. Just Harry.'

If Cassy had thought the first statement was stupid then she had reached an all-time high of idiocy with the words that tumbled from her mouth. She bit her lip, waiting for the scoff, or the scrunched nosed. He did none of that. Instead, the brightest, widest smile she had seen in days spread across his face.

'Thanks,' he said softly, before he turned on his heel and retreated back to the boys' dormitories.

Cassy was left standing blankly on the staircase.

* * *

**This chapter had lots of stuff going on in it, but it is one of those connection chapters, so I hope it reads all right. I will try and update sooner than I have been, but my dissertation is due in May and I decided on an area of study not commonly done, so I have dug myself a hole in which I am burying myself in work in slowly. **

**Small confrontation with Draco and a little bit of pro-activeness from Cassy. She's more interested in knowing who is and is not in favour of Harry than the group were in the book and will hopefully put it to good use later on. This chapter signals the divide between her and her cousins. She is no longer willing to refer to them with familiarity and hope for their understanding, she has come to a resolution and as you know, Cassy will do her best to stick to it now.**

**Other than that, I just want to say thank-you for the lovely reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy the year!**

**Thanks!**


	13. Umbridge the Inquisitor

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XIII: Umbridge the Inquisitor **

Eyes followed through the corridors, through the halls, and down across the tables, over the heads of other students and even the occasional drifting stare of the Professors. There were stunted whispers from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, Slytherin were excited and noisy, while Gryffindor House had the decency to look uncomfortable as they discussed what was to be the new favourite theme of the week.

Slytherins of all ages turned to peer across to the Gryffindor table. Some heads were turned only a fraction, whereas others turned openly, some sneering and others laughing. Each one was judging. They were all judging, some silently, some not. Each was evaluating worth, or rather, re-evaluating in light of the most interesting news they had received to sink their teeth into since the initial glee at Harry's unfavourable title as a liar and his incident with the delightful Professor Umbridge. Their eyes were fixed on Cassy. Their words were of her mother.

Cassy did not flinch. In fact, she was not paying the slightest bit of attention to their stares. One hand was fixed on the morning newspaper and the other was slowly spooning porridge into her mouth as she scoured the page from top to bottom. Despite wanting to sigh and scowl deeply at the lines of drivel the Ministry had promoted, she could not in the fear someone would mistake it for irritation at another source; the last thing she wanted to do was to accidentally give a sign of weakness to the students. It would be honed in on, pulled into view, used to pull her apart from the inside out as with all apparent flaws. Her position as a Black was stopping the teasing. She had too much money, too rich from Alphard's inheritance and the money landed to her from the title of the last named Black free and alive. She was too smart too. Too smart and with too much money for many to think to tease her quite as mercilessly as she knew they wanted to.

Cassy was weak though. Despite the power, she had glaring weaknesses and she knew it was only a matter of time before everyone fell onto one side or another about them. She was not of age, she had no family to pitch her case to those influential people, and she was close to Harry Potter, who the newly instated Professor loathed openly. She had weaknesses, but Cassy was not going to let them show; not now.

From the depths of the pages of the _Daily Prophet_, Cassy glanced up. Straight away, as if sensing him there, her deep blue eyes met with Draco Malfoy's sharp grey. They held each other's gaze for a few seconds. Suddenly, Cassy's back straightened, her head was held a little higher, prouder, and more confident despite not having him there for the first time in her life. She had lost her Slytherin immunity, but somehow she felt taller for it. She turned away first, a smiled pulled at her lips although the words that followed did not quite match the expression. Malfoy did not need to know that.

'The Ministry must be quite proud of themselves,' she said and tapped the newspaper with her long fingers.

'"_Ministry seeks educational reform – Dolores Umbridge appointed first ever High Inquisitor_",' said Hermione as she re-read the title of the front page. 'How ridiculous. I can't believe they've done this. I mean, I can - but really! That woman of all people! Then again, Fudge is hardly a shining star.'

'It's terrible, isn't it?' said Cassy, her eyebrows raised shortly in resignation.

Hermione shook her head fiercely. 'It's _outrageous._'

Cassy re-read the first paragraph, her chin resting on her hand lazily.

_In a surprising move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

"_The Minister has been growing uneasy about going-ons at Hogwarts for some time," said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. "He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve of."_

'Well, they got a Weasley's name right in the paper for the first time,' commented Cassy blandly.

'The one time I would rather not be associated,' grumbled Ginny beside her.

'I don't know who they're kidding saying "_This is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, has used new laws to effect improvements at the wizarding school",_' said Seamus down the table. 'I mean, what improvements have there been? '

Cassy moved her eyes to where they were reading.

_As recently as 30__th__ August, Educational Decree Number Twenty-Two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person._

'Considering it's followed by: _"_That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed", I don't see _any_ improvement,' said Harry grimly.

The fifth-year Gryffindors sniggered up and down the table, but they all held worry in their smiles. The article did not end on the notice of new laws, but rather what the law was. It came into effect immediately and Cassy was not surprised to see Professor Umbridge merrily eating breakfast at the head table. As High Inquisitor, Professor Umbridge was granted powers to inspect other classes to ensure high-quality teaching. It was her judgement if the staff stayed or went.

Cassy cast a long sideways at Harry. He stared back with interest at her thoughtful, of not somewhat carefully blank face.

'Professor Umbridge is inspecting classes. She hates half-breeds,' said Cassy levelly.

It took only a second for a look of comprehension.

'Oh, she better not try and sack Hagrid,' he hissed under his breath.

'She can't just sack Hagrid, Dumbledore wouldn't let her,' said Neville with a frown.

'I don't think he has much of a say anymore,' said Hermione coolly. 'Besides, he's not here at the moment to be sacked.'

'At least she can't be as awful as usual while she's inspecting. I mean, there's no way Professor McGonagall or even Snape would let her get away with it,' Neville said, slightly brighter than the others.

'Oh, if she fires Snape it will all be worth it,' muttered Harry.

Cassy gave him a very doubtful half-smile.

The first lesson of the day was History of Magic. Professor Umbridge was not present and honestly Cassy could not see the ghost lasting through more than a minute of one before he was ousted from his post. Although, she thought as the same point was repeated for the fourth time that hour, it was not as if Professor Binns would even take notice. Another teacher could come in and he would continue as normal, speaking over them mindlessly in his usual, dull tones until they could not stand it any longer. Professor Binns would prevail, that was certain.

Another teacher Cassy was not concerned for was Professor Snape. A mixture of distaste for his existence and an unwilling belief that if anyone was to support his harsh, unchanging teaching method it would be Professor Umbridge. She would certainly loath him as a person, after all, he was a known former Death Eater only vouched for by Professor Dumbledore, but he was a teacher Cassy was sure would remain to her disappointment.

Like History of Magic, Potions was not inspected. Cassy was only partially listening to his short, drawling introduction to the task. Her mind was on Shandy, who once again had been lurking at the edge of Cassy's peripheral vision as she walked through the corridors with her friends during changeover. He had said nothing. He had simply stared, a small smile on his face. It was almost worse than his conceited conversations and his cocky strut from the year before. It was harder to tell what he wanted, if anything at all.

The lesson progressed smoothly. Neville even managed to turn in a potion for grading that had the vague colouration specified and Harry had once again outdone himself, his potion appearing perfect to Cassy's appraising eye. When she leant over to ask him what his sudden improvement was down to, he merely shrugged.

'I just think if I want to be an Auror, I need to be getting good grades,' he whispered back easily.

It was a lie, her gut told her, but she said nothing else. She resigned herself to being impressed and turned her attention back to the freshly marked homework. She turned the parchment over to see a tiny, red 'E' in the upper corner. Stomach sinking with disappointment, Cassy turned to spy Hermione's mark where she sat on the desk behind her. Quickly, the parchment was torn from view, but not before Cassy saw a flash of an 'A'.

Hermione's grade hardly made Cassy feel any better. She had wanted an 'O'. She wanted the best grade for her best subject.

Beside her, Harry tucked his homework roughly into his bag. Cassy pretended not to notice; he must have received a poor grade, but for the tiny effort he put in, he could probably not expect anything more. Despite having surprising moments in class, Harry's homework ethic was worse than ever with his constant battles with Professor Umbridge.

'Remind me to work harder,' said Harry lowly as they all rose to leave.

Cassy's mind was consumed with ways to boost her grade on their newest essay, so much that she only barely registered the Slytherins that chortled as she passed. The loudest, closest one was a friend of Shandy's, she was sure of it. She paid them no mind, listening to their jeers with only one ear. It did not matter what they said. Cassy had enough low voices in her mind to last her a lifetime. What they said aloud was hardly worse than her own thoughts.

'You all should watch out, lest she goes the way of her mother. What a mess that would be on your hands,' said a cheerful, loud voice from across the Entrance Hall.

Shandy was not being subtle at all anymore.

Harry moved to confront Shandy, his shoulders squared and his teeth barred dangerously.

'Shut up,' he hissed. 'You don't know what you're talking about.'

Ridicule of madness was hardly a concern compared to the fear of it Cassy had carried with her most of her life, she considered dully. The Slytherins telling her she had the potential to be deranged was hardly anything compared to the Boggart she saw two years ago. That felt like madness.

'Cassy, are you all right?'

Cassy looked up suddenly. Shandy was gone and Harry's bright green eyes were narrowed in concern. Blankly, she had been staring at a distant stone pillar, oblivious to the world outside of her thoughts. She frowned inwardly. Why did it matter? She would not normally care for the ridicule, but since term had begun she had felt the force of it so strongly, like a hundred nails piercing her skin with each comment and each stare. Not even just those of her mother though, anything aimed at her was suddenly offensive, but not the kind to cause anger. She just felt tired. She was always tired.

'I'm fine,' she said shortly.

'We thought you were about to get into a fist fight there, Harry,' came another disembodied voice.

Everyone turned to see Fred and George lingering on the stairs. Their eyebrows were raised, but they appeared somewhat amused none the less.

'Yeah, a good old fisticuffs,' said Fred. 'What was that all about?'

Harry hesitated and glanced down at Cassy. She sighed, the weight of everyone's eyes on her crumbling any resolve she had had to say otherwise.

'Draco has been spreading rumours about my mother,' she said levelly. 'The Slytherins find her most hilarious.'

'He's a berk,' said Fred and George together.

'There's nothing wrong with your mum being a Muggle,' said Hermione, scowling.

'That's not the issue,' said Cassy, her voice suddenly dropped very low, forcing the others to lean in close to hear. She spoke clinically. 'My mother was institutionalised after my birth because of an unsettling fear created by her exposure to the magical world during the First Wizarding War. The Slytherins took advantage of this and Draco has told them all she killed herself from it, when in reality she died from illness one winter.'

Everyone but Harry turned to gape at her. Students passed them without a single glance, but there was a sudden sensation of over-crowding and everyone shifted awkwardly where they stood. There was no apt response for what she had said, there was no comfort to share because there was no positive in what had happened. In the end, Neville was the first to speak.

'You never told me that about your mum,' he said, softly.

'You never told me about your parents,' she responded. 'There are some things that you simply do not mention freely.'

'We did wonder from last year how you were a half-blood,' said Fred.

'We thought your mum was probably a half-blood herself,' finished George, his hands tucked into his pockets.

'Full Muggle,' said Cassy. She did not turn on her heel and exit into the Great Hall as she wanted, she could see on their faces that there was something else they wanted to ask. She stared between them and let out a long, deep sigh. 'Ask then, don't just stand there.'

Everyone looked between one another for a second, before Hermione eventually asked.

'What do you mean your mother had an adverse reaction to magic?'

The relief and curiosity on everyone else's faces made it clear how much they had all wanted to ask. On the other hand, Harry stood with his jaw set tightly. He was frowning down at Hermione with an unfamiliar expression, although clearly not pleased she had asked. Cassy had told him openly and she was under the impression that if she had not done, he would never had questioned it.

With a slight shift in the weight on her feet, Cassy explained shortly what had happened to her mother. It was brief, only outlining her fear and confusion, her reluctance to allow anyone to see Cassy as a baby, her anger that Cassy was not with her father and how she considered the Blacks to evil, vile men and women. It was not nearly as extensive as it had been to Harry and Cassy did not feel she wanted it to be. She did not want to reveal her mother's deepest fears in the middle of a hall as students and staff passed around her. Her voice was as steady as a low murmur could be.

'I left and I was never to return. I last saw her when I was five and I have only two memories of her,' finished Cassy. Yet, in her mind it was as clear as day, the nervous, smiling and ever so beautiful face of her mother flicked in front of her, crouched down to meet her height in the early afternoon light; she had two memories, but they were potent and real and Cassy expected them to never fade.

With those words, Cassy did turn to enter the hall silently. Her friends sat around her, uneasily falling into another topic of conversation, all but Harry. He gave her a reassuring half-smile, but Cassy did not return it. She no longer felt like eating lunch. She picked at and moved her food, forcing herself to eat at least half before she gave in and headed to Ancient Runes early. She would leave them to talk about her mother when she was long out of earshot, she knew they wanted to, it was only natural, but she would rather leave that to her imagination than sit through another conversation. She had nothing more to say on it. She did not know her mother; she knew her even less than she knew her father and sometimes even their distant relationship played on her mind. Surely, she reasoned, she could ask her father about her mother, but then, if they were not close themselves, Cassy could not reasonably bring up such a sensitive topic. She did not want to risk her father becoming irritated with her, not now. It was easier never to think about her.

Cassy heaved a heavy sigh when her feet drew to a halt outside of the classroom. Sigh seemed to be all she did lately. Drawing the textbook from her bag, Cassy leant against the wall and flicked through its pages. Her mind became so busy absorbing and reiterating that her family was pushed to one side, back into the corner it had always been in.

Footsteps eventually sounded, they echoed down the long corridor, closer and closer until they stopped beside Cassy. She did not need to look up to know how it was who dropped their bag onto the ground beside her feet.

'I wonder if we will have Umbridge's inspection today,' said Hermione conversationally.

It took Cassy a second to reply. She had almost expected a different topic, but keen to keep it away, she merely turned her head towards her bushy-haired friend at gave a flat, unwanted stare.

'I hope not,' she said blandly. 'I am not sure I want to hear her nonsense today.'

'Fred and George said she was just in their Charms class before lunch. She just wanders around the class to ask a few questions of what students think of it and how they are getting on. She takes notes at the back of the class and talks to the Professor afterwards, apparently,' explained Hermione.

As it was, Professor Umbridge was not present in Ancient Runes that day. The lesson on Warding was uninterrupted and somewhat fascinating for Cassy, but she did not let her excitement build too much, for after Ancient Runes was Defence Against the Dark Arts with Umbridge herself.

Professor Umbridge beamed at them as usual when they entered her classroom in a thin and tidy line. Cassy, Harry, Neville, and Hermione hung back, grabbing seats farther back than they would normally sit and sat at their individual desks in a row near the back of the class. The other Gryffindor's sat in front of them to act as an unbeknownst barrier between Harry and Professor Umbridge.

'What's up with these seats?' hissed Ron as he leant back on his chair. 'Since when has Defence had individual desks?'

'Since Umbridge began to fear unity,' mumbled back Hermione.

Cassy laughed.

It was of no surprise when Professor Umbridge instructed them to begin reading Chapter two of their textbook. They had never done anything else besides take notes. The text was boring. It was not even the same kind of tedious rambling that Cassy had become accustomed to through her lessons as a child. She did not gain knowledge from it; if anything, she felt like she was losing knowledge as it fled through her skull to escape the company of the unintelligent arguments and bias narrative held within the pages.

After reading the first five sides, Cassy glanced up. If she was bored, she knew that Harry and Neville would likely be going out of their minds, and that poor Ron sat in front would likely be asleep, but when she did, she noticed that Harry was not staring blankly down at his desk, but rather with peculiar interest over in Hermione's direction. She had her hand up; her book was closed.

There was a silent battle waging between the wills of Hermione and Professor Umbridge. Hermione's hand did not waver. It remained high in the air for five minutes after Cassy had given up on the task and in that time Neville and Ron had turned to look as the latter let his head drift back to the window in longing. With his head turned, it did not take Dean and Seamus long to notice and soon the entire class was looking between Hermione and Professor Umbridge, waiting for one to crack.

As the scraping of quills stopped, Professor Umbridge looked up. She then smiled.

'Yes, dear?' she said, as if she had just noticed Hermione's high hand.

'I've read the chapter,' said Hermione.

'Then proceed to the next one,' said Professor Umbridge.

'I've read that too,' said Hermione.

Cassy angled her head so her eyes could flick easily between Hermione and Professor Umbridge. Cassy knew what was going to be said next, but it was futile. Nothing would be moved onwards from it, unless that was what Hermione was intending to prove. She was not stupid, she could not expect a change in the Professor, but she could in the students. It was clever.

'In fact, I've read the whole book,' continued Hermione. Her lips were pursed just slightly.

'Recite what Slinkhard says about counter-curses in Chapter fifteen,' demanded Professor Umbridge quickly.

'That "counter-curse" is nothing but a word used to make jinxes more acceptable,' said Hermione, 'but I disagree. They are vital in defensive situations.'

'Your opinion in this class does not matter, Miss Granger. You are neither the teacher, nor the minister who set this curriculum. Your opinion is irrelevant to this class. Five points for disruption,' stated Professor Umbridge coolly.

Hermione pursed her lips a bit farther, but she did not look nearly as upset as she would have for any other deduction. A small hiss sounded around from her fellow Gryffindors.

'The Ministry approved curriculum does not give room for students to express their opinion of matters they do not understand. Although other Professors may allow it, none, with the exception of Professor Quirrell, taught age-appropriate material,' continued Professor Umbridge. A smug smile was beginning to pull on her wide, pink mouth.

'Yeah, well, the problem with him was the fact that he had Voldemort's face sticking out the back of his head,' called Harry, so flat and sarcastic that Cassy actually wanted to laugh.

Another round of hisses, this time of shock, filled the room.

'Detention tonight, Mr Potter. Another week should do it,' snapped Professor Umbridge. 'Now, everyone, back to work. Not another word from you.'

Harry did not pick up his quill. Neither did Hermione, her head held high defiantly. Cassy sat with her arms crossed and book closed, while Neville slowly picked his quill apart strand by strand in boredom. In fact, Ron, Dean, and Pavarti sat with them, still and silent. It was only Seamus and Lavender, the only two with doubts of Voldemort's return who uneasily continued their notes. By the end of the lesson, Lavender had stopped too.

Professor Umbridge said nothing about it. When the bell rang she dismissed them and they all left in silence. They traipsed down the hall to the marble staircases when the faint bang of the classroom door shutting echoed up to them. Suddenly, they burst to life.

'I can't believe her,' snapped Ron.

'She had no right to take points. It was only an opinion,' agreed Pavarti hotly.

Cassy inclined her head to Hermione and said, 'You have stirred them. Why?'

'I didn't exactly mean to do that. I wanted to see how strict she was really going to be and see her response, to see if we could work on expanding the classes later,' muttered back Hermione. 'I know it was a stretch, but now the point's been proven and to everyone. I have a plan – an idea, really, but I'll explain after dinner.'

At dinner, the four were joined by Ginny and Luna as usual. They were eager to hear what had happened in class, having read the scathing expression on Harry's face from across the hall. He did not have long to rant; five o'clock came quickly and his detention called for him to part with his head high, unaffected by the punishment. Cassy thought of readying a cloth for his hand when he returned.

It was only after everyone had eaten that Hermione asked them all to sit with her outside. Luna pouted slightly at the thought of missing dessert, the only reason Cassy thought she turned up to meals at all, but they followed her from the hall none the less. The noise from behind began to fade, soon replaced with the gentle rusting of leaves from the mild September wind. Not a single soul was outside, the lake was calm and still, the curtains of Hagrid's hut were still drawn.

Everyone sat themselves under the willow tree beside the water's edge. Hermione shuffled and clasped her hands together.

'I've been thinking it for a while, but today made me certain we need to take action for Defence Against the Dark Arts. It can't stay like it is,' she said strongly.

'We can't exactly just ask Umbridge to change. She doesn't seem the type to listen,' said Neville and shrugged his shoulders weakly in futility.

'We're not going to ask,' said Hermione.

'Then what are we to do?' said Cassy when it became apparent Hermione was waiting for the prompt.

'If we want to learn how to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort,' she stuttered, 'then we have to take matters into our own hands. I think Harry should teach us Defence.'

'That's a great idea,' said Ginny immediately. 'He'll be great. When he fought that Basilisk...'

'Umbridge won't let that get past her, will she though? She's not going to like it,' asked Neville.

'She's not going to know,' said Hermione. 'It will be a secret.'

'Will it just be us?' asked Luna curiously.

Hermione hesitated. 'Well, I thought given the circumstances, we should probably open it up to anyone who wants to join.'

'I think that'll be great. I mean, everyone's always complaining about her, so I think we would get a lot of interest. That's what we need now, isn't it? To be able to defend ourselves if V-Voldemort is coming for us,' said Neville, his voice alight with excitement.

'I hope so,' said Hermione, relieved her idea what gone well. She then turned to the last member of their group. 'You haven't said anything, Cassy.'

Sat crossed-legged on the hard ground, her chin on the palm of her left hand and her thin fingers curled in front of her mouth, Cassy had been silent through the entire conversation. She did not shift in thought as her friends grew more excited, but rather her face remained carefully blank. It was always worse, Neville had told her, when she did that because everyone knew something was not necessarily wrong, but something was not quite right either and she made it impossible to tell. Cassy wanted to frown, but it hardly seemed worth the movement. She would not persuade them otherwise and in many senses, she did not want to try either.

When all eyes rested on her eagerly, Cassy did move, straightening her back and cast an unconcerned stare towards Hermione.

'Harry is all ready behind on his work in what might be his most important year. His mood is plummeting more and more sporadically as the days past, his temper flaring at everyone for anything, I cannot imagine he will want to teach such a class. He is struggling, although he does not want to show it.

'That said, I know he is an excellent teacher. He taught me the Patronus Charm when he was patient and kind. I would like to learn Defence from him, I believe it is the only way we will pass this year, let alone be prepared for Voldemort when he makes his move. If anything, the classes might make him lighten up, give him a sense of rebellion, the heroic purpose he likes to have, but I am not sure Harry will agree to teach us with the way things are,' said Cassy. She did not mention Harry's self-esteem issues. There is no way he would believe himself capable of training anyone, he rarely thought himself worth much at all when it came to it.

'Then we'll have to persuade him,' said Luna, as though it would be easy.

'How do we do that though? Harry's nothing if not stubborn,' asked Neville.

'We'll ask and take it from there,' said Hermione. 'I'll explain everything and if he says no, I'll try again in a few days when he might have thought about it.'

'Failing that, we just send Cassy to ask him,' said Ginny brightly.

'What difference would that make?' asked Cassy with one eyebrow raised.

'Don't pretend you don't notice,' snorted Ginny. 'He'll always agree if you ask.'

Cassy blinked owlishly. 'That aside, I think you will be faced with a large "no" for the future.'

'He'll come around, I'm just worried about his initial response,' said Neville. He looked towards Hermione, who had her face set in a resolution all ready, just as Cassy had suspected. Her mind had been made up long before she had approached them of it and Cassy inwardly hoped Hermione could persuade Harry to teach them classes. If anyone could do it, if anyone could make them successful and give them a chance of survival it was him. If he refused, Cassy lightly thought after she had stood, she would teach herself, even if it would not be as easy. She might as well put some of her reading into practise.

Cassy departed from the group and left the four sitting on the yellowed grass from the summer sun. Her mind had begun to wander once again, although not as severely as it had in the past weeks. The thought of illegal, underground classes made her restless; she was all ready eager to get a move on, to learn to be better, great, if she could, her current level of knowledge was not enough, but more than that she was not even sure she could cast half the spells she could identify. While Madam Pince would haul her to Professor McGonagall if she caught her trying to cast any sort of charm in the library, Cassy was certain there would be at least half a dozen books she could find to take out anyway.

If Harry had any sense, he would say yes to Hermione's proposal. Not only would it give them a fighting chance to pass the year and perhaps even survive a little longer when Voldemort makes his move, but also Cassy was certain Harry would begin to thrive in leadership. It would give him purpose, a little secretive jab towards Minister Fudge and Professor Umbridge each and every time they performed a spell outside of their strict guidelines and searching eyes. Perhaps he might even cheer up in class and force him to work as they finally began to retaliate against this unknown threat that was sure to come. Yet it might not come for years.

Cassy did not want to approach Harry about the possibility that the situation they were in might remain so for years to come. Only a few believed Voldemort to have returned, people were going missing, but no one wanted to blame him yet, there was no reason for him to reveal himself that Cassy could see. She would have built her forces, carefully selecting over a number of years before making a grand sweep to overtake when no one was expecting it. Surely even the Dark Lord could not build such a grand network in a number of months, the Order seemed to think not; they were careful and meticulous, but blatantly almost desperate with their choices of companions, Mundungus Fletcher, for example.

Yet, Harry would do what he would and Cassy would sigh and be prodded into speaking to him to convince him otherwise, but his stubbornness and righteousness were part of why she liked him so much anyway. He would do what he would and Cassy opted leave the hard thinking to Hermione as she entered through the large double-doors to the library.

She ran her hand over her scalp and down her fishtail plait, before she flicked it back over the front of her shoulder. Her eyes raked through the taken tables, eyeing many seventh and fifth-years, some of whom she had seen at dinner half-an-hour earlier, and some of whom she was sure had skipped the meal altogether. Eyeing a table further back, Cassy weaved in and out of the familiar faces, dropped her bag on the empty seat and waved her way out towards the more travelled part of the library.

Rows and rows of book stood in front of her, many had broken spines, or tattered corners from use over the years. There were old books, some Cassy could no see why any typical student would pick up let alone read, their spines in Latin and their embossed titles rubbed away. Cassy opted for something more recent, easier to study and easier to pass the knowledge on as well. Part of her was surprised that Professor Umbridge had not all ready gutted the collection, replacing it with only copies of the useless, mustard-yellow theory books she clung so tightly to.

'You've been standing in this isle for a while now, Black,' came a low, smooth voice from beside her.

'Gentlemen should not stare, Zabini, it is unbecoming,' drawled Cassy.

Despite her disinterested tone, Cassy was incredible pleased. She had obviously made a good impression on the train.

'You flatter yourself,' he said.

'Do I?' asked Cassy lightly.

For a moment, Zabini said nothing. Cassy continued to scan the books, unconcerned, and selected two from the shelf above her head. Neither spoke. If he had approached her then he could make the effort, she thought, besides, she knew he was waiting, testing to see if she pandered to be in his good graces; everyone did it. Everyone made quick conversation to gain favour, to appear interested and eager, too eager sometimes.

'My mother meant to send you a thank-you card for her flower, but she has been a bit preoccupied. I hope you understand,' said Zabini, breaking first.

'Ah, yes. Do give my condolences to her on the tragic loss of her husband,' said Cassy. She turned to him politely.

Zabini smirked. 'You would be the only one to do so.'

Cassy let the corners of her lips turn up just slightly, enough to show she was amused, but careful not to suggest she found the death humorous. It could be turned back on her. She turned back to the shelf.

'Do you know where Malfoy is? I was thinking of sharing some childhood stories of his, seeing as he likes to share mine, embellishments and all,' she said lightly.

'Oh? What kind of stories?' asked Zabini.

Cassy curled her lip and frowned, as though thoughtful. She said, 'Oh, perhaps one about a young Muggle girl, a broomstick and a lot of blushing.' There was a pause. 'He was nine.'

'_Nine_, you say,' he repeated.

Cassy could tell he was curious now, nine was old, it was close to Hogwarts age. The fact that the story might not be real was not of consequence. She hardly cared, in fact, Cassy did not feel guilty at all for proposing such a thing at all. Malfoy should not be embarrassed by fraternisation with a Muggle, and he should have known she would say something back to him. Embarrassing stories were better and Cassy had a collection she would love to share to anyone willing to listen.

I will not humiliate him, she thought, just be outlandish enough to grab his attention, to make him realise what it is he is doing. She needed to smoke him out and force him to want to speak to her because she knew he would keep his distance. He would not say what he did to her face and he was always surrounded by his friends, too protected for her to pull aside without a curse to the back.

She smiled pleasantly at Zabini.

He stared with a slight frown.

'Why are you in Gryffindor?' he asked. 'You clearly have the brains not to be.'

'Sticking to the misconception people are nothing outside of their house trait?' said Cassy in disappointment. 'The Houses are nothing more than constructs of easier management and to establish potential groups of like-minded people. Once outside of education, they do not matter at all. The greatest people of our Century come from across the houses. In fact, the most famous duo of Aurors from the 1940s, White and Cross, were from Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively. Their _partnership_ revolutionised the system.'

Zabini was silent.

'Anyone who thinks differently I dare say has not really thought about it at all,' finished Cassy.

He continued to say nothing. An expectant quiet formed between them. They stared and considered one another for a time. Cassy traced Zabini's face, looking for a flicker of evidence to suggest how he felt. The fact he had not cursed her was good, or scoffed as she thought he might. His family had been neutral in the last war. His father, the third husband of his mother, whom always returned to his surname following the unfortunate fate of her husbands since, had been keen to keep his family from the fight and Cassy knew it was a blind stab, bold and foolish to hope that perhaps Zabini had developed some sense of indifference to all through the course of his life from such an act. Yet, if he could not cope with such thoughts now then Cassy knew she was wasting her time with him. There were other Slytherins that were just as useful to form an alliance with, although Malfoy would no doubt make that difficult with his tall tales.

'You are odd,' said Zabini shortly.

Cassy did not respond. It was almost a good sign.

'You talked of Draco and you called him "Malfoy". Tell me, do you even know where he is right now, where his parents are? How have they been all summer? Do you know?' he questioned softly.

She was suddenly less sure.

'Do you even have any useful connections anymore, or should I put you down as someone to watch as you try to climb up from the bottom rung?'

'I will get to where I want to be by myself. I will do it for myself. I will make it because I want it, because I earnt it, not because my _father_ commands men bow at my feet. They will bow to me because they _know_ I deserve it,' hissed Cassy.

Zabini continued to watch her for a moment, before smirking.

'We will see, I suppose,' he said, his voice deep and smooth, undisturbed by her tone.

'Yes, we will,' confirmed Cassy.

He said nothing else as he swept back out of sight. Once his back was turned, she scowled openly at him. He was ruder than she had expected.

* * *

**Sorry this has been so slow to update. I have been panicking about my work and I need to get it done. I also started watching **_**Merlin**_** and have become quite absorbed. **

**Point noted that I need to be careful how I characterise speech. Sometimes it gets through the net, but I will be on the lookout for it more carefully from now on. It gets stuck in my head sometimes because of how most things are from Cassy's focus, but I'll make sure to edit the best I can from now on.**

**Other than that, there is not much to say about this chapter. Thank-you for the reviewers, you always remind me why I have spent so long doing this series and am still doing it. I was a bit naïve when I started to think doing seven years would not be that stressful; it is. It is time consuming too, but I do love it and I will make it to seventh year. There will be some serious rearranging to plot in that year though because of all the differences I will have made by then in the years building to it that make some of it impossible. Seventh year will be planning hell.**

**(Edit: Changed to the correct spelling of 'Zabini')**

**Thanks! **


	14. Into their hands

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XIV: Into their hands**

Cassy had returned from the library just before curfew. Several books were stuffed into her bag, weighing her down on one side and another was held in her arms. She did not stop to greet her friends where they were gathered around the fire besides a quick wave, and instead made her way up to the dormitory.

Her bag was quickly dropped at the foot of her bed and she reached far beneath it to extract an old, slightly raggedy book. The cover was a faded purple, with sharp silver letters spelling 'Occulmency' amongst the tiny, repetitive patterns that lined the background. A red bookmark was stuffed a third of the way in, although Cassy had not touched the book for a number of days. She had been reluctant to advance in it, unsure if what she had read had really sunk into her brain enough to move on, but with the renewed determination to study and vigour within her, she pushed the small worry aside.

Her eyes finally closed at minutes past three in the morning. The book fell to one side of her pillow, her thumb trapped and keeping her place. She had been trying to clear her mind. It was supposed to be the key to the practice. Having no surface emotions, fears, or memories were vital to the mind's defence, but as Cassy stared up at the red canopy in the dark, she was unable to tell if her mind had been purposefully blank or empty from boredom at trying again and again to master the first step.

When her mind did give way to sleep, it was not restful at all. Her determination to not think had resulted in a very active mind instead and Cassy found herself a guest at Tonks' wedding to both Fred and George, set in the garden of the Burrow on a summer's day. She was sat beside Kreacher, a flower tucked in the fold of his pointy ear. On her other side was her father and Remus, both healthier than she had ever seen them in life, more jovial for the former too as he jeered and prodded his old friend, who looked very distraught at the sight of Tonks' marriage. Yet beside that, no one except Cassy seemed to think the ceremony strange. There were tears of joy and the faint cheers of the Order in the background. She even allowed herself to be convinced of the good match by Ginny.

The entire dream was a horribly pleasant affair, so much so that when Cassy awoke she could do nothing but stare up at the canopy until Hermione finally leant over and asked her what was wrong. With a grimace and an eager will to forget the dream, Cassy shook her head and hurried to get ready for the day.

Unable to look at either Fred or George at breakfast without squinting in critical evaluation, Cassy resided in watching Harry blot away the fresh blood on the back of his hand. In her eagerness to study, Cassy had managed to miss Harry's return from detention that night. His cuts were raw, deeper than before and prone to opening as he bent his hand to do much of anything.

'Neville spotted it first,' said Harry, screwing up the soiled serviette.

He had been unable to sneak away. Neville had noticed from near the fireplace as Harry stepped through the Portrait Hole. His short call of concern had only alerted Hermione and Ginny to his injury and the fact that his detentions had very much been more than expected.

Cassy let out a low hum while Harry sighed deeply. She was pleased she had missed the commotion, the moment when the others found out had long since played in her head to the final detail, all correct from Harry's retelling.

'They would be less angry if you had just told them,' said Cassy.

She smiled slyly when Harry cast her a withering glare.

'I don't want to hear that from you,' he said. 'Besides, they were angrier I hadn't told McGonagall all ready.'

As it turned out, it probably would have made little difference if Harry had told Professor McGonagall of his torturous detentions. She stared down at him across the table late into breakfast, he lips pursed and her glasses resting down on the bridge of her nose, very much giving the appearance of an insulted eagle.

'Ten points from you, Mr Potter, for receiving more detentions because they obviously have no effect on you! I warned you not to continue,' she told him sharply.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he closed it again quickly as the imposing form of their Head of House was replaced by the stern, just as livid figure of Angelina Johnson, Harry's Quidditch Captain.

'Have I heard right?' she barked. 'Have you landed yourself with more detentions this week too? What about training, Harry? Are you ever going to show up?'

'I didn't choose to get detention!' protested Harry, but Johnson was not listening. She turned sharply on her heel with a dark sneer upon her face and strutted back down the table to her friends without another word.

Harry's teeth ground loudly. His jaw was set.

'Professor McGonagall might be right, you know,' said Hermione as she buttered her toast. 'It would be better if you just let it go with Umbridge this once.'

She and Neville had come downstairs fifteen minutes later than Cassy and Harry. They had been waiting for them in the common room, only to realise they had gone some time later, despite their call as they hopped out of the Portrait Hole. Harry was ravenous from his mostly missed meal the night before.

'You agree with her? I can't just bite my tongue while she _lies_ to everyone, Hermione. I don't care if I get detention every day for the entire year, I won't just sit by,' seethed Harry. He quickly turned to Cassy. 'I suppose you agree with her?'

Cassy scowled. 'Do you want to watch your tone?'

Harry retracted slightly, but continued to jab the eggs on his plate violently. 'Sorry. I just don't get how you can all be so patient.'

Inwardly, Cassy sighed. She knew it was difficult for him to remain quiet. She had spent long nights thinking it over and she knew he must be struggling more than ever. Although she was sure he had come to terms with Cedric's death over summer, every time he turned he was faced with a reminder of it. Each question against him and each call of the truth served to revive the memories of the corpse, of Voldemort being resurrected in front of him, of his arm being cut open for his own being to be used in the vile ritual, and of Pettigrew slicing off his own hand in front of him. Harry had coped with a lot, from Voldemort's attached to Quirrell in First Year, to killing a Basilisk in the Second Year, but he had agreed to those. He had not agreed to face the Dark Lord in the cemetery, he had no time to mentally prepare himself.

'Transfiguration starts in a moment,' said Neville, awkwardly. 'We should probably get going before more points are taken from us.'

Unfortunately, before the doors of the classroom could be shut a pink, cheerful mass slithered in and snuggled itself in the corner of the class. Loudly, as though no effort was put into masking it, Harry sighed from the seat behind. Cassy grinned down at the table top as she rummaged for her textbook.

Like always, Professor McGonagall stood at the very top of the classroom, her wand in one hand and a stick of chalk ready on the desk, her board all ready covered in turning symbols of magical theory. The task was the same as the last lesson, except instead of vanishing snails they were to use mice, which, as Professor McGonagall made a point of stating, were much more difficult due to having bones. Just as the Professor turned to circle the change in theory on the board, a small cough erupted from the back of the class. Professor McGonagall did not even twitch and continued her lecture, ignoring the noise as it came once more.

'Now, Miss Brown, please hand out the mice,' said Professor McGonagall.

There was another short, soft cough.

'Now, the principal of the task is exactly the same as last time, however, this will require much more concentration and a little more force behind it. You don't want to just vanish the bones and have the remainder of your mouse sag on the table.'

Lavender paused, her hand still full of writhing mouse and her nose scrunched.

A louder cough sounded.

'Now, those of you who managed to vanish the snails by jabbing your wands into their sides I recommend refrain this time around. If I have a dozen mice loose in this classroom at the end of the period, I will make you all find them by hand. Besides that, you have an hour in which to practice. Homework will be to continue to practice as we will be moving on from the vanishing spell at the end of the week,' said Professor McGonagall. Her eyes moved from face to face in search of any questions.

A loud, gruff, throaty noise rang from the back of the room.

This time, Professor McGonagall did not ignore it. Instead, her face relaxed and her eyebrows drew up in an unusually pleasant expression.

'Yes, Professor Umbridge, is there something you need?' she said, lightly.

'I was just wondering if you had received my note about inspecting this class,' replied Professor Umbridge, sweetly.

'Of course,' said Professor McGonagall, her polite tone dropping to a flat snap. 'If I had not, I would have asked what you thought you were doing the moment you stepped into my classroom.'

Cassy pursed her lips and tried her best not to smile. She dearly wanted to turn to catch a glimpse of what she was sure was the brilliantly affronted expression on Professor Umbridge's toad-like face. Beside her, Hermione snorted.

Professor McGonagall turned to address the class again, she said, 'Now, does everyone have their mice?'

Yet again, a cough muffled the end of her sentence.

She turned sharply to the corner.

'Professor McGonagall,' said Professor Umbridge with a bright smile, 'you are aware I am filing a report on your performance for the Ministry, to see how you teach?'

'How will you find out about my methods if you insist on interrupting me constantly?' snapped Professor McGonagall.

There was not a single interruption from Professor Umbridge for the remainder of the lesson. A dull scratching reverberated through the room continuously, never ceasing and seemingly growing louder and louder each time Professor McGonagall called for attention, as if Professor Umbridge intended to throw her off course with the irritating sound.

Care of Magical Creatures was not a vast improvement and in fact the class that had all ready been marred by the departure of Hagrid was dulled further by the inspection. The enthusiasm that Professor Grubbly-Plank responded to the questions was infuriating, her eagerness and knowledge shone through to Professor Umbridge to even earn her a compliment. It would only be another mark against Hagrid when he returned. Without the Headmaster in a position to vouch for him, it was unlikely he would ever see his job again in the coming year.

Cassy huffed a deep sigh. She looked beyond Harry beside her, who had buried his nails deeply into the rotting, wooden fence around the creature pen in silent protest. Over at the other end of the pen were the Slytherins, grouped together in a small hoard. They mumbled to one another, some with faint smiles and a small ripple of laughter erupted. Their heads all turned towards the Gryffindors. They laughed again, louder that time.

Draco – _Malfoy_, Cassy reminded herself quickly – cast his eyes from Neville to Hermione, then straight across to Harry. He did not look at Cassy. His grey eyes glazed straight past her.

It was not until Cassy curled up in one of the plush, scarlet armchairs besides the roaring fire in the common room that Neville turned his worried brown-eyes on her. He sat in the armchair beside her with an unopened book on his lap. Crookshanks smothered Cassy's own work. The giant orange cat purred contentedly as Cassy absently petted his matted fur. Her eyes were fixed on the fire.

'Are you all right?' asked Neville.

Had Cassy been any more distant, she might have jumped at the sudden question, but she had not allowed herself to delve so deeply into her own thoughts. Without turning to him, she said, 'I am fine. Why do you ask?'

'I don't think you're fine at all,' he said.

Cassy turned to look at him in surprise. His eyebrows were dipped lowly and his mouth was pressed into a thin, cross line.

'You've been more distant and aggressive lately. You've pretty much reverted back to your first-year self,' he said.

Cassy regarded him levelly. 'You made friends with me in first-year. You cannot have minded my attitude that much.'

'That's not the point,' he sighed. 'I mean that you're _unhappy_.'

That much was obvious to anyone surely, thought Cassy. Besides, she was not unhappy as unhappiness went. She was not sure what she felt anymore.

'There is nothing you can do to help. I need to sort this out by myself,' she said after a second of thinking. Her long fingers slowly worked on pulling out the matted lumps of Crookshanks' fur. 'Really though, it's nothing serious. You do not have to keep asking.'

Cassy pretended not to see his light frown and continued to pull at Hermione's cat until he had enough and leapt from her lap to take a less disturbed nap by the fire. Time began to tick by for the two of them and it was not long before Neville leant over to pose a puzzled question to Cassy. Her own essay was quickly forgotten and she had eventually conceded to reading his essay through for him. With a very flat expression, one of reserved exasperation, Cassy handed back the work fifteen minutes later; the essay had not been longer than ten inches long.

Neville grimaced. 'That bad?'

Cassy's dark blue eyes flicked down at the red ink she had covered his work with and looked back up to him with raised eyebrows.

'All right, all right,' muttered Neville.

'Just because Hermione ends up writing half of it for you does not mean I will,' said Cassy, a smile pulling on her lips.

Neville grinned back. 'Where is Hermione, anyway?'

'On Prefect duty with Ron,' said Cassy. She just prayed silently that this time Hermione would not have to return with another complaint about something Ron had said or done, like the night before when he had sworn loudly in front of a gaggle of eleven-year-olds without thinking. Hermione was beginning to find the strangest things to complain about too.

It was only a moment later that the portrait hole opened and Hermione stepped through with Ron at her side. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and from the pleased look on her face, Cassy assumed the patrol had gone well.

'We stopped a group of third-years entering the kitchens and harassing the elves. I don't know where everyone learns the location from. There's nothing in _Hogwarts: A History_ about it,' said Hermione cheerfully, as she dropped down in the armchair opposite.

Elves, Cassy mentally lamented.

'Why were you and Ron near the kitchens?' asked Neville with a thoughtful frown. 'You only have to check around the floor for stragglers. There's no need for you to be downstairs.'

Hermione's face tensed. Her nose was suddenly in the air.

Cassy smirked. 'Oh, Ronald is a bad influence on you.'

'I didn't want to go, but he wanted _snacks. _At least if I went with him then I knew he'd come back,' said Hermione.

'Sure,' said Cassy lowly.

'Have you guys seen Ginny?' called Ron from the other side of the common room. He sauntered over to the fire and rested his hands on the back of Hermione's chair. 'Mum wanted me to ask her about her shoes or something. I reckon she wants to get her a new pair for Christmas.'

'She's upstairs,' lied Cassy.

'Oh, right. Tell her I want her if you see her?' said Ron.

All three of them nodded and pretended not to watch as Ron headed to the boys staircase. When he was out of sight, Hermione rolled her eyes. 'She's still out with Michael Conner? It's almost curfew.'

'Ron will find out sometime,' said Neville.

'It's best if he doesn't. Her brothers never let her play Quidditch with them when she was younger, let alone will entertain the idea of her having a boyfriend. If I didn't know better, I would say Ginny is trying to get caught,' warned Hermione.

If anyone was to ask Cassy, she would say that that was exactly what Ginny was doing. Ginny had no reservations about her relationship with Conner. If fact, in the past months since Cassy had known, Ginny's confidence had grown exponentially and the level of confidence she displayed around her friends was becoming a more of a certainty around everyone she met. It was as though her new assertiveness was building to confront her brothers, a sort of off-handed wave to let them know she would do as she pleased and that no one could stop her. In part, Cassy thought it related back to Mrs Weasley's insistence that she be excluded from the questioning in Grimmauld Place when Harry arrived. She was too young, the only daughter, something to be protected, and in turn labelled as everything Ginny hated.

Cassy smirked to herself. Ron was in for a shock. Suddenly, her stomach sunk like a rock thrown into a well, heavily and without restraint. If she realised these things, it was only a matter of time before other people did – Harry, for example. Confidence, a short height, and pretty girls where the conclusions Cassy had drawn on what Harry liked. She had not spent nearly enough time to deduce much more about Chang, beyond a level of vulnerability and sweetness she was not sure either she or Ginny possessed. Chang was one thing, but Cassy did not think she wanted to see Ginny and Harry together, bitter and jealous as the idea rang in her own mind. A stranger was manageable, a friend was something else. She and Harry were simply best friends though. There was nothing to _compete_ with because he had no interest in her.

'My walk gave me some time to think actually.'

Cassy was drawn back into reality by the sound of Hermione's voice, left with only the lingering thought that perhaps Ginny was being so careless with her secret not because of her family, but because she wanted _Harry_ to notice. Hermione had said it might draw his attention last summer.

'Think about what?' asked Neville. His face remained pressed to his essay in an effort to read Cassy's curling writing.

Hermione leant in close. 'I want to ask Harry to teach us tonight.'

Like the first time she had heard the proposal, Cassy toyed with the idea in her head. Harry was still in detentions and was behind on his work as it was, yet somehow she did not think he would truly be concerned with that. There was a voice in the back of her mind that had grown since Hermione's last suggestion; it rambled on that Harry might just enjoy the effort. He might disagree at first – and Cassy was sure he would – but once he began teaching he would enjoy it. It might prevent his detentions, it could give him a means to rebel that was useful, proactive in the war effort, and something both Professor Umbridge would loath and the Order would protest to. Both were things he would take pride in, and if not, Cassy was certain she would at least.

'Do you think he'll say yes?' asked Neville eagerly. 'He has to want to do something, even I'm getting tired of reading the papers for word of _activity_.'

Knowing full well Neville was referring to the Order, Cassy hummed along in agreement.

'I still think he will decline,' commented Cassy. 'He will say he is not qualified and does not know enough, or something.'

'He taught you in third-year though,' combated Neville. A smile was still on his face.

'I almost died,' drawled Cassy. 'If he hadn't taught me then I could have died if I was caught unaware. Although, I suppose we will all be dead if we don't get a move on.'

'Which is why we're going to ask him tonight,' said Hermione, finality in her tone. Her brown-eyes were fixed on Cassy. The other slowly lifted an arched, black eyebrow.

'I'm not asking,' stated Cassy flatly.

Hermione shook her head. 'I wasn't going to ask you to. I was waiting to see if you were on board or not.'

'I think it's a great idea,' admitted Cassy.

'Good, because I know he's going to need some convincing,' said Hermione with finality.

It was not a moment later that the portrait hole opened. In unison, Cassy, Neville, and Hermione turned. Instead of Harry, Ginny stepped through, her eyes widening the slightest fraction at the sight of her friends, but she quickly grinned and threw herself down on the sofa with Cassy and Neville, squashing the latter when he failed to shuffle up in time.

'Hi,' she greeted cheerfully.

'Out a bit late?' asked Hermione, her lips pulled into a faint smirk.

'Oh, was I?' said Ginny with a shrug.

Ginny peered between them with seemingly innocent eyes. Cassy huffed half a laugh at the insincere sight and shook her head. She did not even want to know where Ginny and Michael Conner had traipsed off to, but upon second thoughts she thought she actually rather might. She rather liked the idea of nudging Ron off into that direction one evening to see what happened.

With her eyes gleaming, Cassy did not listen to Hermione re-explaining her decision to Ginny. She finished off her essay and leant over to inspect Neville's freshly edited work. Letting out a low, long hum, Cassy pursed her lips. She turned her head quickly when Neville whipped round to her. She grinned at the floor as she stooped down to pretend to rummage through her stack of books on the floor. Scuffling of paper and an indignant whine let her know Neville had fallen for it. With the parchment close to his face, his eyes quickly darted between his new and original essay and Cassy's curling amendments.

A game of chess began on the coffee table between Cassy and Hermione. Hermione was winning three to two with the best out of five when the common room began to empty. Time passed slowly with the tense final match with four wins to four wins. Ginny proved distracting with her game of solo-Exploding Snap, the loud bangs firing off more than probably natural and had Cassy not been so determined to win she might have spared a thought to tell her to be quiet.

A heavy sigh was heaved by Neville, his work thrown down on the ground, finally completed.

'That was the worst essay of my life,' he said as he stretched out across the sofa and into the space Cassy had long since vacated to a take space on the floor.

'Good practise for your OWLs later this year then!' exclaimed Ginny brightly.

The cards exploded again. Neville groaned.

'Don't. I can't even think about that right now,' he grumbled,

'Or ever,' came a voice from behind.

'Late today,' commented Cassy. She turned to look at him lazily, but her eyes sharpened quickly.

'Harry, your hand!' exclaimed Hermione.

Hanging limply at his side, Harry's hand dripped a slow and steady red. The cut was deeper, the lines sharper, and the skin pinker than the last time he had had detentions with Professor Umbridge. Cassy was to her feet before anyone else. Harry's hand was cupped in hers, her thumb smeared the blood away gently in order to get a clearer view of the wounds. Quickly, Hermione was on her feet. She rushed up the staircase, while Ginny and Neville gathered around Cassy to get a better look themselves. Neville hissed.

'It's fine, honestly,' he said quickly. He took up Hermione's vacated seat by the fire. Cassy sat on the arm, glaring down at him sternly. She released his hand and he cradled it in his lap. The rapid sounds of pattering feet echoed down the winding staircase before Hermione reappeared with a small bottle in one hand and a tissue in the other. She perched on Harry's other side and blotted the tissue with lavender scented oil that she then rubbed on the back of his hand gingerly.

They were all silent for a time.

'Harry,' said Hermione eventually, 'I think we should learn to defend ourselves. We can't keep going like this.'

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'Umbridge is holding us back, we need more,' she continued.

'Like teaching ourselves?' he said, curiously.

'Yes, but we need someone to lead us.' Hermione bit her lip.

Harry's head tilted to one side slightly.

'Who? Dumbledore is all ready tied and no one from the Order can meet us out here even on Hogsmeade weekends – not that that would be frequent enough, really.'

As Hermione sent him an imploring look, Neville shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. Ginny's eyebrows raised pointedly.

'Oh,' said Harry. '_Oh. Oh no.'_

Quickly he looked between them. Cassy kept her face neutral even as Harry stared up at her with wide, green eyes.

'Harry, please - ' began Hermione.

'No, Hermione. I can't teach anyone anything. I'm not – I can't,' he snapped, incredulous.

'Yes, you can!' assured Ginny, even louder.

'No, I can't,' repeated Harry. 'Look, none of you know what it's like to face _him_ \- '

'I do, which is why I know you can do it. I saw what happened three years ago, I was there in the Chamber with you. You were so much braver than I was. You were brilliant,' stated Ginny, her voice somewhat quieter and firmer than anyone had ever heard it before.

Harry hesitated. His fingers dug into the thin cloth of his trousers.

'That doesn't matter. Fawkes was there. He did all the work. The rest was luck,' he refused.

Whether Harry had contributed to the killing of the Basilisk mattered little in the grander scheme of things, thought Cassy. He had destroyed Voldemort's soul in first-year; he had faced him in person, his full embodiment the year before and had escaped when surrounded by his Death Eaters, glitch or not in the connection of their wands. He had been there. He had been brave and brilliant each time, he knew the events, he had the tactics and that was more than any of the rest of them had. He had all ready proved himself an excellent teacher to her.

Cassy stared down at him and told him exactly what she thought. She held up a single finger each time he tried to interrupt her and even with her eyes trained on his, she noticed the eventual stilling of his shoulders that had quaked with rage at the mere suggestion of him undertaking the task.

'Besides,' she finished, 'Umbridge will be positively _mortified_.'

She swore she heard a snort from beneath Harry's hands. His face was buried in his palms and in the faint, flickering light of the fire it almost appeared as though his cheeks were tinged pink. Sighing deeply, he scrubbed at his eyes.

'Fine.'

'Fine?' repeated Neville with no small amount of surprise.

'Yeah, I'll try and teach you guys,' agreed Harry.

Neville beamed and Ginny let of a shout of excitement. Hermione let out a breath and turned to smile gratefully at Cassy. She gave a small smile back and joy filled her stomach, finally a sense of anticipation for the year ahead erupted within her. They were finally going to get things started on their own war effort.

'About that,' said Hermione as she wrung her hands.

Harry peered at her slowly and flatly.

'I was thinking that we should let anyone who wants to join... to give everyone the best chance,' she suggested carefully.

Harry's eyes narrowed and he looked towards Cassy, who tilted her head and raised her eyebrows in defeat of the idea.

Not for the last time, Harry heaved a heavy sigh.

* * *

'I am sure even Professor Umbridge would understand if I strangled him.' Cassy's flat voice rang loudly in the quiet library. Floating books shuffled into the empty spaces in the hard to reach upper shelves and a dull murmuring of students gathered on tables across the study area covered Cassy's unfriendly suggestion from the prying ears of Madam Pince.

Beside her, Astoria snorted.

'Pretty sure Umbridge would jump at the chance to give you detention, even if it was for hitting that idiot,' said Stephen. His face was turned down to his book, but Cassy could see his smile all the same.

'It would be worth it though,' she muttered, before turning the page of her book.

Shandy's smiling face had been imprinted on her retinas for the past few days. It seemed that whenever she left the common room, he was there; when she left from her classes, he was there; even when she ate and spared a glance around the Great Hall he was always within sight and turned to look straight back at her, as if somehow sensing her gaze. It was driving her mad.

It was one thing, thought Cassy, to harass her on the odd occasion they met, but it was clear to anyone with half a mind that Shandy was going out of his way to find her. Sometimes he said nothing at all, but she could feel his eyes burning into her back at every turn. Hermione had suggested it was paranoia, yet on the third occasion of Shandy tripping her up 'accidentally' outside of Ancient Runes even she had to admit something else was afoot. The worst thing was, in Cassy's opinion, was that he did nothing but just simply trip her up, knock shoulders with her and throw an apology haphazardly over his shoulder, or simply resort to a little name calling of which Cassy did not care for at all. It was constant, he was constant, but it was never enough to react to. It did not seem to be going anywhere and it was simply making her insane. Shandy was clever and manipulative. He was better than childish bullying.

'I've never seen him that petty before, to be honest,' said Stephen thoughtfully. 'He's usually more of a "tear-you-down-and-stomp-on-your-dreams" kind of guy. It's a bit odd.'

'It's probably because he has nothing to use against me. His last attempt failed spectacularly,' suggested Cassy. She recalled the time he had tried to tear her and Neville apart by mentioning to Rita Skeeter of family hand in the tragedy of Neville's parents and how Neville had recovered and the pair had become stronger than ever because of it. Shandy had been livid.

Cassy peered up and down the library clearing. Far away was a huddle of Hufflepuffs. She tilted her head in thought. If Shandy was threatened by his inability to make a dent in her life then perhaps she should merely continue to ensure that; she could involve some Hufflepuffs in her growing circle of acquaintances – Cassy was not seeking friends, but rather influence – just to ensure she had a good range of people to call upon, both in later life and through the war. It could be assumed what the Hufflepuffs would think about Harry, but it would be near impossible to tell if it had not been for Stephen's own friends in the House.

Susan Bones' faint red-hair and round face visible across the library. She was friends with Neville, Cassy was sure, having seen them outside classes a few times together. She might be a good start, especially as her aunt was included in Harry's trial in the summer.

The bell rang and Cassy gathered her belongings. She parted ways with Stephen and Astoria at the staircases and made her way to Charms. Harry and Neville were all ready lingering by the door with her other housemates.

Since the late night conversation, tensions had eased amongst the friends. Harry's mood had improved dramatically the next morning, as if a night's rest had given his mind enough time to see the benefits to their underground club. Cassy had awoken with a sense of excitement too. It was good to finally be taking some sort of action, to do something proactive in the growing dank of school life that Professor Umbridge was determined to cultivate. When she had awoken, her eyes stung less than usual with a plea for more sleep and her steps were fuelled by a pleasant anticipation for the first time since she had boarded the Hogwart's Express a month prior.

Professor McGonagall had looked appraisingly down at Harry in her next class. The next was to be Defence Against the Dark Arts and her critical eye had turned to a look of small relief at dinner when the Gryffindor hourglass had not lost any rubies and Harry had not gained another week of detentions.

Cassy's rumour about Malfoy was spreading nicely, to her knowledge. His shriek rung through breakfast one morning and Cassy dared to peer at him from the corner of her eye, drinking in with satisfaction the brilliant shade of red his pale skin had turned in an instant. Blaise Zambini sat further down the table, his chin on his hand as he watched with dull curiosity. It was only a matter of time before her estranged cousin sought her company out. He would have to come to her eventually as her tales threatened to get wilder with every word. They would talk then. Cassy would make him see her side once and for all and if that really did not work, then Cassy knew the ache in her chest would have to ease forcefully, because her cousin would not be coming around to settle her fears himself. Yet Cassy hoped he did. She could not face losing all three of them – Alphard, Narcissa, and Draco. To have one would be enough for then, but one was never coming back, one was unreachable, and the other was riding on a last ditch effort to simply make him understand what he was preparing to do was _ludicrous_.

Cassy smiled at Harry and Neville as she stood beside them in the line. Charms class passed without issue, in fact, all the classes had been quiet since Harry had stopped speaking out, although on occasion Cassy suspected the professors not to be setting them homework because of his detentions. They had received none from Professor Flitwick all week and between he and Professor Sprout Gryffindor House had made up all of their lost points.

Before class had even ended, Harry's face began to morph into a look of pure apprehension. He glances between Cassy, Neville, and Hermione in the last few minutes and let out a heavy sigh as the bell sounded and everyone began to pack away.

'Are you sure about this?' he asked lowly.

'Are _you_ sure about this?' countered Neville. 'No one is making you do this if you don't want to.'

Harry shrugged his shoulders. 'Now or never I guess, but what happens if someone tells everyone about it?'

'Then we'll say they're lying and we'll change meeting places,' said Hermione easily.

'We will have a fake organisation name and papers with us if anyone comes to check, do not worry about that,' said Cassy.

At dinner, the four met up with Ginny and Luna before each departing in a different direction across the hall. It had taken several days of bickering before the six of them had agreed on which students to ask to attend the first meeting and sign up of the new Defence Club. They had limited it to people they knew fairly well and trusted to some degree using Cassy's mentally approved list of believers she had gathered in the past month. Harry had protested at the large number they had drawn up in the end, they had settled only the night before with a plan on who was to induct who.

Neville was most familiar with the Hufflepuffs, having met them outside of class during his long afternoons spent in the greenhouses with Professor Sprout in the years previous. Likewise, Luna was in charge of her own house. Hermione had fretted that they might not believe anything she said and had trailed after her on second thought to make sure someone reliable was there to explain whatever strange notion Luna let float from her mouth in the process. Ginny was to ask her brothers, each unlikely to refuse, while Harry tackled the entirety of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.

Cassy waved away Ginny's enquiry as to who she would ask. She made sure to ask Stephen first before Luna had a chance to skip over to the Ravenclaw table. He had raised his eyebrows high as she whispered in his ear, but no higher than that of his two friends opposite, one of whom wolf whistled loudly. A loud grunt followed a bang and the boy hissed, bending to clutch his injured shin beneath the table as Stephen narrowed his eyes.

'Sounds like fun,' muttered Stephen back to her. 'Who's leading it?'

'Harry, of course,' said Cassy.

'Hogshead at noon then,' agreed Stephen, a fiery glint in his eye and a playful smile on his lips.

Cassy smiled back, but it quickly pulled back down into a more serious stare. 'I want to ask Astoria.'

'Ask her then,' he said simply, as if the action was without fault.

Following Stephen's confidence, Cassy caught Astoria outside of the hall just as dinner had ended. By the crook of her elbow, she led the taller girl off to one side and ignored the venomous glares the blonde's friends shot her as they retreated back into the dungeons. Astoria peered down at her curiously.

'Yes?' she said.

Cassy took in a deep breath. 'We are starting our own Defence Club.'

'Who is we?' asked Astoria cautiously.

'My friends and I.'

'I see.' Astoria inspected Cassy's face for a few moments as Cassy waited for her to question her some more. When she did not, Cassy looked around carefully, before leaning in a fraction closer.

'We are doing it in secret and I was wondering if you want to join,' she whispered.

'So nothing Ministry approved will be taught there?' queried Astoria, her brows lowered to a flat line.

'No.'

'No textbooks?'

'None.'

'Spells that can actually prevent us being killed?'

'That is the plan.'

Cassy and Astoria stared at each other for a minute.

'And if I told Professor Umbridge?' asked Astoria softly.

'I would lie, we would all lie and although it might not do any good we would not be expelled for it is not illegal to form such a group. You and I would never talk again and I would see to it that once I had covered our tracks that no one in this school trusted you again,' said Cassy, her voice silkier and lower than Astoria's.

Immediately, Cassy knew she had won the game. Astoria's eyes brightened and she grinned widely, flicking her curly blonde hair over her shoulder.

'Great,' she said eagerly. 'When do we start?'

'This Saturday in the Hogshead at noon,' instructed Cassy, grinning.

'I can't believe I get to spend my first Hogsmeade visit in a dingy old pub,' said Astoria, somehow still exuberant. 'When the war is over I am telling Daphne, the look on her face will be excellent. She'll hate you, you know.'

'I am all ready half-way there anyway,' said Cassy flippantly. The older Greengrass sister had never liked seeing Cassy conversing with her family and yet that only encouraged Astoria to seek her out more. 'Just keep quiet about it will you? It will not work if it's not a secret.'

'Yes, yes,' barked Astoria. 'Is Stephen going too?'

'Yes, I all ready asked him.'

'Brilliant. I can't wait.'

* * *

As it stood, everyone on their list had been interested in joining. Not a single person had refused, a fact that both assured and depressed Harry greatly. He shifted uneasily on his feet in the dank pub, a warm Butterbeer turning in his hands.

Outside, the wind howled. The weather was bright but was quickly taking a turn for the worst as October began to settle in. The leaves were soft reds and yellows, scattered across the cobbled pathways and filled the guttering of shops and even wedged their way in-between the display products stationed outside the windows. The ground was slick and shiny from rain through the night and the air had quickly become cold enough to turn travellers' noses pink and send chills through their fingers.

Cassy and her friends had arrived in the Hogshead early. A short stop had been made to the book store on the way, but they had not allowed themselves to detour any further. Luckily, or unluckily, they could not decide, the pub was almost empty. A stout, tall witch sat at the bar and two men were perched on high stalls at the furthest table. Only a faint tune filtered out from the record playing in the next room. It was too quiet, unnerving almost, and Cassy was keenly aware that any conversation held would be held for all to hear.

'Why was Filch sniffing you when we left, by the way?' asked Hermione, finally finding a safe topic of conversation.

'Oh, he thinks I'm importing Dungbombs or something. Apparently someone told him so,' said Harry with a shrug.

'Oh?' said Cassy.

'He tried to check my post the other day,' admitted Harry. 'I forgot to mention.'

'I wonder who would tell him that,' said Hermione thoughtfully.

'Probably the Slytherins playing a joke,' suggested Neville.

The conversation faded and the six of them peered around silently.

'Is this the place Hagrid got his dragon from?' whispered Neville, his voice rang loudly in the quiet room.

'Dragon?' piped Luna. Her wide eyes widened even further, almost engulfing her faint eyebrows.

Before anyone could begin to tell that tale, or quieten it as Cassy wished, the door opened and a loud bell rang out. Harry turned the cup anxiously in his hand.

First in was Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, who each peered around with no apparent strangeness to the pub. They only completed their greetings when the door opened again and the Quidditch team entered in full, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Ron filed through, with Dean, Lavender, Pavarti and Padma trailing after. Next, and chatting loudly, were Colin and Dennis Creevey. They shuddered in excitement as Fred and George wormed their way past them towards the bar with a collection of coins from the arrivals so far.

'Gryffindor is out in droves,' said Ginny.

When the door opened again, many of the fifth-year Hufflepuffs clambered in. Ernie Macmillian, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbot, and Susan Bones shuffled in as people stumbled backwards into vacant spaces to make room for the ever growing gathering.

'This is more than I expected,' muttered Harry.

'It will be fine,' assured Cassy, not daring to reveal the number yet to come as she counted each head.

Cho Chang and her sneering friend of whom Cassy did not know came next. After them were three Ravenclaw boys, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Conner – Ginny jumped off her stall to greet him - and Terry Boot. A lone blonde Hufflepuff by the name of Zacharias Smith, if Neville had informed them correctly, and then followed in Stephen and Astoria, who caught the door before it had a chance to close entirely.

Cassy smiled at her two friends, who lingered at the back of the group, unnoticed by the rest. Astoria's smile was oddly unsure. Cassy inclined her head and her smile became warmer and what she hoped was more encouraging.

There was no need to hush the crowd. They fell silent the moment Harry shifted, their eyes on him eagerly. Much to his luck, it was Hermione who took a step forward and clapped her hands together.

'Right,' she began hesitantly. 'Well, we're all here because we think the same: we need to defend ourselves and Umbridge is making that difficult. She's rubbish, frankly.' A small cheer erupted from the Gryffindors. 'We need to know how to fight and how to survive, because Lord Voldemort is back!'

There were a few squeaks and the few occupants of the bar turned to stare. The bar man even dropped the glass he had been holding, but Hermione held her head high.

'If we're all here for that, I think we deserve to know how he came back exactly,' called Zacharias Smith with his arms folded across his chest.

'I'm not going to say it. Not now, not ever probably, so if you're all here for that you can just clear off now,' said Harry flatly.

Smith tensed, but he did not move. An unconvinced frown lingered deeply.

'Okay, so - ' stared Hermione once more.

'Is it true you can cast a Corporeal Patronuses?'

Cassy scanned her eyes through the crowd for the owner of the voice. Quickly, she found a red-haired, stout girl off in the gaggle of Hufflepuffs. Susan Bones smiled sheepishly.

'Sorry, my aunt is Madam Bones, so I heard a bit about it. She said it was a stag,' she said.

There was several curious glances from her to Harry. The trial had been a secret, more or less. It had not been in the papers. With half the room curious, Harry nodded. Another murmur erupted.

'Is the Basilisk story true?' called Terry Boot.

'It is,' said Ginny. 'I was there.'

'You actually killed a Basilisk at twelve?' he said in awe.

'Yeah, but - ' began Harry.

Cassy nudged him.

'Harry faced Voldemort in first-year too, over the Philosopher's Stone,' added Neville eagerly.

'So your saying Quirrell actually had You-Know-Who's face stuck on the back of his head?' asked Conner, his nose crinkled.

'He did. Me and Cassy saw him get through the tasks to get there,' he said eagerly.

'I only got to him _because_ you and Cassy were there!' interjected Harry, quickly.

Cassy nudged him again.

'Harry got through the Tournament last year alive.' A gentle Scottish accent rang out louder than all other voices. Chang smiled softly at Harry, a rare sight in recent weeks, her eyes bright with admiration. Cassy found herself scowling before she could stop herself.

'I had a lot of help with the tournament,' said Harry as he shrugged his shoulders.

Cassy nudged him once more and this time Harry turned to frown down at her.

'You're just trying to weasel your way out of teaching us,' accused Smith.

'Shut up, Smith, or go home,' demanded Ron hotly.

'Well, he's called us out here and is now telling us he can't do any of it!' snapped Smith.

'That's not true,' said Fred and George together.

'Everyone calm down,' hushed Hermione. She put her hands in the air as if the gesture would quell them, but her voice merely added to the mix and the noise became louder.

'Why do we have to have such a useless teacher for our OWLs, we'll never pass at this rate!' cried Hannah Abbot.

'This is more important than our OWLs,' said Ernie Macmillian fiercely. 'We need to know how to defend ourselves or we're not going to make it to our exams!'

Everyone fell silent. Nothing had ever been more important to Macmillian than work before.

'The Ministry fears an army,' said Cassy clearly, speaking for the first time. 'They fear that Professor Dumbledore is building a resistance within the school to undermine the Minister's control. We cannot learn to defend ourselves in class because it would give us the means to be a capable generation rising in the discontent of a growing war. There is nothing Minister Fudge fears more than losing control.'

Losing control was why her father was still a convict rather than a free man, a voice in the back of her head reminded her sourly. Fudge could have set him free if he had wished to do so, but the backlash on his term as Prime Minister would be great and Fudge was incapable of maintaining a strong face against his opponents.

Again, everyone was silent. Cassy leant back against the bar. Dressed in all black with her arms folded across her chest, her large, dark-blue eyes were narrowed just enough to stop anyone from thinking of speaking against her. Everyone but the Weasley's stared in shock.

'We need a room to practise in,' said Hermione, drawing the attention away. 'We intend to send out a message to everyone when he have one to arrange the first meeting. Once a week should be enough.'

'As long as it doesn't clash with Quidditch practice,' said Johnson.

'We will try to find a time suitable for everyone, but we ask you work with us. There are a lot of people to accommodate here,' said Cassy.

'I have a list I'd like you to sign,' said Hermione, 'so we know who has joined.'

Several people shifted uneasily.

'I won't leave it lying around,' insisted Hermione impatiently.

The parchment was cursed. Cassy had seen Hermione enchanting it before bed the night before and had approved the plan with enthusiasm. There were too many people they hardly know to risk creating a web of blame and liars if anyone was ever to find out about it. Cassy wanted to tell them all at the end of it, to ensure no one thought to turn them in, but Hermione was vehemently against it. She said it was a precaution, not a threat and while Cassy did not see why it could not be the best of both, she said nothing more. It was Hermione's plan, after all.

Suddenly, there was a loud shout.

'There's a Slytherin here!'

Everyone's heads whipped around in panic, but Cassy spoke first.

'She is here because I invited her. I trust her more than half of you here, so let us say nothing more about it,' she said sharply.

Several people mumbled, Smith more loudly than others, but they allowed Astoria to sign the sheet before she passed it on to Stephen. Astoria smiled at Cassy, nodding her head in thanks.

With the paper signed, it did not take the students long to begin to take their leave. They drifted away in small groups just like they had come and before long, it was just Cassy, Harry, Neville, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna left in the bar once more. When the door swung shut with the exit of the last new member, Ginny turned to Cassy with her eyebrows raised high.

'A Slytherin?' she hissed.

'That was Shandy's mate too,' added Harry. 'What if he tells Shandy?'

'I've been friends with both of them since last year,' said Cassy patiently. 'Good friends, in fact, by now. We meet up often through the week, actually. I have no reason to think they will tell anyone.'

There was a brief frown on Harry's face. He snapped, 'Fine.'

Cassy narrowed her eyes. 'Do you look past house colours at all yet?'

'That's not the issue,' he protested, frowning deeper.

'Then what is?' demanded Cassy hotly.

He opened his mouth and quickly closed it again. His head turned to one side as he scowled. 'Forget it.'

'No, say it,' challenged Cassy.

'Guys, stop!' intervened Neville, moving between the two.

'Erm - I'm going to go and catch up with Michael now my nosey brothers have gone,' said Ginny uncertainly.

Hermione clapped her hands together with a tense smile on her face. 'Well, should we get going? We still have time to look around before we have to head back.'

Once in the street, Luna skipped behind next to Cassy and Neville, while Harry and Hermione were a step ahead. Luna looped her arm with Cassy's, who merely shot a flat, questioning look at her friend. Luna leant closer.

'You should just tell him, you know. Neville agrees,' whispered Luna in her light, airy voice.

Cassy stiffened and scowled.

'It would just make things awkward,' she said, not bothering to ask how Luna had known.

Luna hummed and Cassy turned to shoot Neville a dirty look. He looked back in alarm, having missed the exchange.

'I'll tell you one good thing about today, Harry,' said Hermione slyly.

'What?' he asked.

'Cho couldn't keep her eyes off you, could she?'

Cassy stiffened again, but her shoulders then slumped. She had no right to be jealous. For the bubbling cauldron of rage and sadness that boiled every time it was mentioned, Cassy knew she had no right to be angry with him over it, nor with Chang. She might not like her very much, but she was hardly the worst Harry could be interested in, even if Cassy privately loathed that Chang seemed to be starting to like him back too.

'Oh?' said Harry.

' "Oh"? Is that it? I thought you'd be happy,' objected Hermione, her thick brows raised high.

'I'm not unhappy,' protested Harry. 'I just... I don't know. I'm surprised.'

Cassy cleared her throat carefully. 'So, you you still like her?'

Harry ignored her.

Hermione was peering at Harry curiously and then she sighed heavily. Under her breath, she muttered something Cassy could not hear, but she made out the words 'of course' and eyed the smile that then pulled at Hermione's lips suspiciously.

'I really think you should just tell him,' muttered Luna again and Cassy had half a mind to snatch back her arm. She had all ready tried once.

* * *

**Long chapter! Now the year is getting somewhere.**

**This probably should have been split in two, but I didn't feel there was enough in either half to make it an interesting chapter on their own, so it remained as one. It's hardly the longest I've published! **

**I thought I would update quickly because I will be focusing on work a lot this month for a deadline on May 8****th****, so while I had a free house I cracked on editing this. If there are any mistakes let me know. I have that mood where you have done so much reading and writing in a day that you are no longer sure exactly what you just read. **

**Some Harry/Cassy moments will arise shortly! I promise that. **

**As always, I hope you enjoy.**

**Thanks!**


	15. No societies, please

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XV: No societies, please**

Cassy awoke with lethargic limbs and tired eyes. Her mind was awake and showed no signs of wishing to switch off again, if it ever had. She could not remember the dream that had woken her, she was merely left with the sinking feeling in her stomach and a distant thought of Tonks. She had not written lately, nor Cassy to her. She was probably busy with her work and duties for the Order. The thought had not crossed her mind before but she found herself missing the light-hearted conversation lately.

Sighing, Cassy stretched her arms high above her head. A dark canopy rested above her bed and her mind moved to the collection of books she had gathered beneath it. She had taken several books from the Black family library and stuffed them in her case under the watchful eyes of her estranged father. Cassy had not heard from him for a while either. Vaguely, she considered writing him a letter to let him know he was not alone, but whether that would help or not she could not decide. She imagined it driving him insane just as much as providing comfort.

Perhaps if I keep it really mundane he will not feel as though he is missing out, thought Cassy.

There was no desire to pay much thought to the lingering question in the back of her mind; a small voice asked her when she had stopped being so bitter with him, when she had accepted him as her father and wanted to send him letters to ensure he was all right. The irritation at him, unjust and cruel as she recognised it to be, had melted away at some point. Surprisingly, she was actually eager to hear from him. The resentment she had built through her childhood, the flaring emotions in her stomach as she had watched other children laugh with their fathers, even be scolded by them, had reared its head with an unwanted fury, but she did not feel it anymore. Oddly, she just felt guilty.

Cassy rolled over towards the clock on her bedside table. The spindly, crooked hands pointed to quarter-to-five. Another loud huff left her lips.

'Ludicrous,' she muttered, sitting up. 'What a stupid time to be awake.'

With only the less-than-joyful knowledge that the first double lesson of the day was to be Defence Against the Dark Arts, Cassy leant over the side of her bed and fished beneath it for the least offensive text she had stored there – she kept them well hidden so a rummaging Hermione could not find her most legally questionable material. The gas lamp on her bedside table flickered on.

Pavarti groaned in the bed opposite at the light and flung an arm above her head as she turned in her sleep.

The pages were lined with gold and the covers a shimmering silver. The silver shifted like a thick liquid as the book tilted in Cassy's hands, oddly reminiscent of the faint glow of unicorn blood she had eyed so cautiously in her first-year. Swirled letters read: 'Occulmency: A Complete and Comprehensive Guide from Beginning to End'.

Often taking her own advice, Cassy had invested in an Occulmency guide. Although not for the reasons the idea had originally grown from – Cassy had little desire to alienate herself anymore – the concept had grown on her. She had, after all, promised to undertake a more useful hobby the summer of fourth-year and Occulmency had appeared as an attractive skill then too, but it was only recently that Cassy had had the time to think any further about it.

Everyone in the Order knew it to some degree, her father had told her. It was something of a pre-requisite for joining. No one could be trusted to handle delicate and confidential information if they could not protect their minds from a basic intrusion, although it had made it hard to accumulate inner-members. The skill was difficult and took no small degree of care when learning. The mind was to be trained, not the body or the senses unlike in other forms of magic. It was less of what one knew and more about how little they could present. Cassy had not been disturbed by this. She knew she was a proficient liar and she possessed a keen enough mind that she and Hermione were locked for top places in every class, with the exception of, perhaps, Defence Against the Dark Arts to which she gave to Harry. So then why she found the steps so difficult to follow she did not know.

There was no method of testing her progress. It was based on how much or how little she _felt_ she had achieved, how the defended her mind seemed to her and how few dreams she had been having of late.

A piece of parchment was slipped from the back of the book. She scribbled down the date and put a number one beside it, marking her dream beneath the few others she had had in the few weeks into her study.

Cassy did not normally dream, not that she could recall, at least. Nor did she know how it felt to have her mind defended because she did not know particularly what it felt like to have it vulnerable. There seemed to be no set definition to it at all. In fact, she was even having issues with the first step. It was imperative that the practitioner had an empty mind, yet she spent so much time concentrating on thinking of having a clear one that she was never entirely convinced she had achieved it at all. When she sought to think of nothing and forced her thought to rest somewhere in her subconscious she merely found herself waking the next morning having fallen asleep without managing to feel any sought of boundary form at all. Worst of all, she often fell asleep with the book in her hand and only succeeded in evoking Hermione's motherliness for not sleeping earlier and pushing herself too hard. If she had read the title, she had not commented on her choice.

A more irritable part of Cassy's mind declared the practice impossible and scolded her for not picking a simple hobby like knitting, but never one to give in when she wanted to know something, Cassy was determined to stick with it, even if it took the next two years to become remotely able. It was fascinating. It was unusual. It was _useful. _If she could protect her mind, she could protect her secrets. Voldemort was going to have issues getting access to her mind if it came to it whether her defence was like a net or a wall in the end.

Undeterred and, in fact, slightly encouraged by the fact most adult witches and wizards could not claim to have the ability, Cassy turned to her marked page in the first chapter and began to re-read the method all over again. With any luck, by the time she joined the Order at seventeen – and she was determined to do so whatever anyone said – she might even have begun Legilimency too.

By the time Cassy had re-examined her prior efforts and dressed for the day, the other girls in the dorm were beginning to wake. The Sun had begun to rise over the distant Scottish mountains, shining ever later with the approaching winter, but clearly for a change as the grey clouds had finally begun to part.

The book was slipped back under the bed and Cassy packed her bag idly as Hermione tied her shoes on the bed beside her.

'I hope Professor Binns actually marks the essays properly this time. I put a lot of effort into it and I won't stand for him giving the entire class an "A" again. Did you read Ron's? Half of it was made up,' said Hermione.

Cassy glanced at her in amusement. 'You have been awake for half-an-hour, calm down, will you? And yes, I did read it. I was actually very impressed by his imagination. He almost made Troll raids interesting.'

'It was the part where he said the Trolls mounted their victims' heads on the cave wall that got me,' sighed Hermione, shaking her head.

'You can tell where he got that inspiration from,' said Cassy with a grin. 'The house was good for something then.'

'It was the vilest thing I've ever seen. Those elves should have been given a dignified funeral,' grimaced Hermione. 'Kreacher's deluded to want to be up there.'

'Well, I am not saying that his wish is_ impossible_, but I just do not wish to be the one to do it. Too messy, too ugly,' contemplated Cassy airily.

'_Cassy!'_

'Kidding!'

Hermione threw a pillow at her as Cassy laughed, before she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

'No one will be decapitating anything,' informed Hermione tartly. She ignored Pavarti's horrified expression, who had only caught the very end of the conversation and strode out of the room, leaving a giggling Cassy to follow her into the common room.

Unlike most mornings, the common room was alive with movement. When most people would have already descended for breakfast, they were instead gathered around the notice board near the door.

Hermione craned her neck before she pushed through the crowd with Cassy still in tow. The two emerged at the front and the new notice was easy to spot. In crisp white with plain black lettering, pinned over a collection of colourful posters from the years before, was a very short message that read:

_By Order of the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts_

_All student organisations, societies, teams, groups, and clubs are henceforth disbanded._

She knows, thought Cassy instantly. She knew about their Defence Group. Word had reached Professor Umbridge and she had banned them from meeting, erasing the only technicality Cassy had offered as reassurance to the group.

Beneath it in smaller print groups where of any more than three students – an impossible restriction for her and her friends – and that organisations could be restored with the permission of Professor Umbridge. Wails of mourning for their Quidditch teams surrounded her and the Chess Club began to lament their postponed tournament, apparently impossible to finish before Christmas now.

Cassy pushed her way back through the fray and only turned to ensure Hermione had followed. Beside her, Hermione frowned deeply.

'If anyone has said something to her, the curse will have activated. We'll know who it is,' she assured.

Cassy nodded slowly. This was going to be a pain.

It was only a few minutes more for the noise of the commotion to urge the fifth-year boys from their dormitory. Harry and Neville eyed the board curiously, before they made their way over to Cassy and Hermione curiously. Ron trailed behind them.

'All clubs and societies have been banned,' said Hermione, her lips pursed.

'What?' exclaimed Harry in alarm. 'Why?'

Hermione shook her head. 'It doesn't say.'

'Someone's told then,' said Ron.

'Maybe not. It could not relate to us at all,' offered Neville hopefully.

'Of course it is,' insisted Ron. 'I bet it was that Slytherin who told.'

Cassy scowled.

'Well, we'll know at breakfast, won't we?' said Hermione.

'Why's that?' asked Ron.

Cassy, Harry, and Neville walked ahead of Hermione and Ron as the former explained the enchanted paper to him. Ron's eyes widened and his mouth remained agape for some time before he said, 'You're scary, you know. Brilliant, but honestly scary.'

With a quick glance over her shoulder, Cassy caught the glowing pride on her friend's face in response and rolled her eyes. She did not understand the growing friendship between the pair. There was admiration and exasperation and nothing in-between, yet the two seemed to think nothing strange of it.

'It could have been Shandy's friend,' said Harry suddenly.

Cassy cast him the same frustrated look she had given Ron before.

'Shandy would love to know about it, I'm just saying,' continued Harry, as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

'It is unlikely Stephen would have told him or turned us in,' dismissed Cassy lowly. 'Anyway, the problem is now how she knows right now, but rather what we are going to do about it. Everything has just become a lot more difficult.'

Harry pursed his lips at the prospect of secretly navigating twenty people around the castle utterly unseen. It was already going to be a challenge to find a meeting place, but now with the knowledge that they could not cover any accidental discovery with the excuse of a new society's first meeting everything became a tiny bit harder.

Cassy had suggested they filed for a new society status before the meeting. Something mundane enough that people would think nothing of it, but something to explain why so many people participated. It would prevent them needing to be completely discreet, despite the risk of the occasional teacher observation. Now even that was impossible. Professor Umbridge would never let any society with Harry pass.

There was no one at breakfast that had boils splattered across their forehead. It was easy to pick out those they had met in Hogsmeade along the house tables. Nearly all of them had turned to stare as they entered the hall, their eyes wide and alarmed in an effort to communicate their worries, to urge Harry to placate their minds. He did not.

Harry strode to an empty section of the Gryffindor table and sat with his back to the tables. A glowering side-glance was shot at a smiling, seemingly oblivious Professor Umbridge at the head table.

'Spotted anyone?' he asked lowly.

'No,' said Neville.

Cassy locked eyes with Stephen on the next table over. He frowned at her, before she moved to Astoria a few people down. She stared back with pursed lips.

It was not long before Hermione parted from Ron and came to sit with the three of them. Soon after, Ginny hurried to the table with Luna skipping in tow. There were no greetings, but rather a hushed discussion of plans.

'It only proves that this is what we need to do,' said Ginny fiercely.

'They actually fear us,' added Neville.

'We still need somewhere to teach it though,' said Harry.

'We will have to look on the map tonight for anywhere distant enough,' suggested Cassy.

Along the corridors and up the floors, the sound of discontent and panic amongst the students did not end. Scathing remarks followed all the way to History of Magic and Professor Binns failed to notice as the Gryffindors muttered to one another the entire lesson through. It was only Seamus who was unaware of the attempted Defence Society. Dean and Ron were talking around him in heated mutters and Lavender and Pavarti peered nervously at Harry from time to time, trying to catch his eye.

Professor Binns droned on none the wiser to the noise. It was not until Harry hissed loudly that Cassy bothered to look up from her notes. His chair scraped backwards and she managed to catch Hermione's finger pointing to the window before he darted past. Cassy quickly followed his direction and the class went silent.

A white bundle of feathers sat on the windowsill outside, ruffled from the high winds and rain. Large, yellow-eyes peered at them through the glass.

'Hedwig,' gasped Harry. The window was pushed upwards and he tugged the Snowy owl inside before he slammed it shut again. A letter was tied to her leg, but Harry paid it no attention. He wrapped her in his cloak and hurried back to his seat where she shook in his lap.

'Is she all right?' asked Neville.

'She's hurt,' said Harry lowly. His fingers brushed over the rumpled feathers on her wing. She chirped lowly. 'Sir! I feel ill. I need to leave!'

Harry did not wait for Professor Binns to respond. He shot from the room as their teacher mumbled something about it being fine before he continued to ramble more to himself than anyone else. The rest of the class burst into conversation again.

Hermione leant across Neville and hissed, 'Someone must be trying to read his mail!'

'The Dungbomb incident was suspicious,' muttered Cassy thoughtfully. It was unlikely to be an accident or an animal attack when Filch had already been ordered to intercept Harry's post last time.

'I reckon it's Umbridge. She doesn't want the truth getting out, so she'll be watching who Harry speaks to,' said Neville quickly.

'If the letter is from _him_ then we might be in a bit of trouble,' hissed Cassy. She almost considered it a positive thing that the letter was still attached to Hedwig, but that did not mean it had not been read and reattached. Professor Umbridge worked for Fudge after all and he knew of Sirius' innocent. He had refused to do anything about it because it could possibly be protested, Fudge would not care if he put an innocent man away again if it meant securing his position amongst the people.

Cassy pursed her lips.

When the bell rang to signal the next lesson, Cassy walked a little faster to Potions than she ever had before. She passed the students easily and slipped into the dungeons with scanning eyes seeking a head of messy black-hair. It was near to the Potion classroom door that Cassy spotted Harry. Not five feet from him was her cousin and his friends. Cassy slowed to a stop beside Harry with Neville and Hermione behind her.

Malfoy was talking loudly, a wide grin on his face. 'Of course, the Slytherin Quidditch Team was reinstated immediately. As soon as I opened my mouth Umbridge agreed.'

'Is Hedwig okay?' asked Hermione.

'She'll be fine. She's just a bit shaken,' said Harry softly.

'I'm not surprised the Gryffindor team hasn't got permission to reform yet.' Malfoy's voice rang loudly suddenly. Cassy eyed him from the corner of her vision, already irritated. He laughed, not looking at them. 'I mean, the Ministry's been trying to put Potter in a ward for ages now. Somewhere for people with _addled brains_. You know the one in St. Mungo's? Probably all the time he spent with Muggles growing up, unstable things they are, always losing their minds.'

Had Cassy not reflexively reached to hold Neville back before the words had fully sunken into her brain, she would have launched herself at Malfoy. She linked arms with Neville as Hermione did the same on his other side. He snarled and pulled against them. Harry quickly gripped his collar.

'Oh, oh!' laughed Malfoy. 'Is there a problem?'

The Slytherins had mixed reactions. Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson sniggered, while Knott and Greengrass rolled their eyes at him and continued their own conversation without another glance to the volatile situation. Zabini's eyes slid over Cassy's placid face for the longest moment, before he too turned back to the conversation before. Cassy let her fingers dig the slightest but deeper into Neville's arms when he had. Her shoulders shook with how tense they had become.

How dare he, thought Cassy. How dare he insult Harry; Neville's parents; Hermione's heritage; Cassy's own mother? He had got them all in one sentence. She wanted to wipe that smugness off his face right then and there, all she had to do was release the anger in her chest. She could just let Neville go for him –_ would that not be fantastic?_ \- or she could push him aside and swing for Malfoy herself, but Cassy did not believe in violence for the sake of violence. She had a temper, she had hit him before, but it was never so raw. A slap for insulting Harry's mother in third-year and many childish fights they had both tumbled in before Hogwarts, but she had never wanted to rip someone apart so badly.

She let go of Neville suddenly and stuffed her hands into her robe pockets. Her first clenched in the thin fabric. She breathed deeply. It made no sense, the anger. It was too much. It was not the first time he had insulted her or her friends, not even her mother, but it was the first time she had felt the need to lunge for him and make him take it all back. She wanted to do it to anyone, actually, as she noticed several sets of eyes watching the four Gryffindors eagerly. One slip of the tongue and she thought she might just swipe for them too. She knew a spell or two to knock the glint from their eyes. It would not be difficult either; she knew just the spell for it. She could make them leave her alone for good. Not for the first time, she felt so uncontrollably angry.

'Cassy?' whispered Harry.

Cassy turned to him with glassy eyes, surprised to see him frowning down at her.

The door closest to them opened. Professor Snape's greasy head poked out. Immediately, his eyes trailed over the way Harry and Hermione had Neville gripped between them and how Malfoy's smile slowly slipped off his face.

'In,' said Professor Snape after a tense second.

Cassy moved her feet slowly. She concentrated on the horrible slipping in her stomach and how the smoky smell of the last lesson made her insides twist and bubble.

'You looked like you wanted to skin him,' hissed Harry in her ear.

'I – I – It does not matter,' breathed Cassy.

'Are you all right?' he asked. He slipped into the seat beside where she had dropped her bag.

It took Cassy a moment to compose herself. She felt sick and _so_ angry. Then again, Cassy found it hard to recall when she did not feel angered around Malfoy anymore.

'I am fine,' she said brightly. Perhaps it was too bright, because Harry just frowned more deeply at her.

Before he could ask anything more, the classroom door opened once again and Cassy did not have to turn to know who it was. Harry groaned loudly and slumped against his desk. The inspection might have been amusing if Cassy had been in the mood to hear Professors Snape and Umbridge snap back at one another with false niceties. As it was, every chuckle or cough that left the vile woman's mouth made Cassy want to burst. Instead, she turned her attention to the task at hand. As well as her own potion, she continuously corrected Harry's wayward potion as he ease dropped on the Professors' conversation at the back of the room, chuckling to himself at something Cassy did not hear.

At the end of the lesson, Professor Snape stared down at Harry's potion in distaste. It was a strange shade of yellow instead of the bright orange intended.

'You are to write exactly what went wrong, Potter. I want it on my desk for Monday,' he drawled, before he swept back to the front of the class.

Harry groaned. 'Thanks, by the way, for trying.'

'Don't worry about it. I would have managed to save it if you had not added that rat tail in the end,' said Cassy. 'It was interesting trying to figure out exactly how you made it when had half the time.'

Harry grinned sheepishly.

'Professor Umbridge was in a particularly good mood today,' commented Hermione as the four traipsed up the corridor.

'She would be, wouldn't she?' said Harry. 'I hope Quidditch is back on for tonight. Perhaps I can just skive Divination and do my homework.'

'Harry!' protested Hermione.

'You said Divination was a waste of time yourself,' retorted Harry, with a shrug.

'I can have the structure for your essay done by the time you get back. All you will have to do is flesh it out. Professor Snape will know if I have written it,' offered Cassy.

Harry turned to her and stared with bright eyes as through looking at an angel. Cassy rolled her eyes and Harry beamed.

Really, such a smile should be criminal, thought Cassy.

'You're a lifesaver, Cass,' he breathed.

'Yes, yes,' she dismissed, waving her hand. She avoided his cheerful, flushed face and tried to think of something less extraordinary in appearance.

Cassy and Hermione parted ways with the boys and instead made their way to Ancient Runes. They met up once more for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Umbridge was just as cheerful as she had been in Potions and it was only the knowledge that the plan was going to go ahead regardless of her efforts that Cassy thought kept Harry in his seat with his mouth closed.

The bell did not ring soon enough. Eagerly, Cassy slipped from the room with a backwards wave to her friends before darting through the throng of oncoming students. The corridor to the library was empty with students having fled for the Great Hall and the promise of dinner. With any luck, although Cassy struggled to believe luck was on her side that day, Stephen would be still in the library, perhaps packing his bag, and she could catch him. He usually spent his free periods in the library or in the Ravenclaw common room.

Cassy turned immediately on her heel when she spotted him.

'Black!' called a voice.

Sneering, Cassy turned back around. Right when she had found Stephen, she had uncovered a rather unfortunate sight of an easily detestable Slytherin sixth-year.

'Shandy,' she replied, much less enthusiastic.

'You are mad at me,' he said.

Cassy stared. She then turned to Stephen. 'Stephen, can I talk with you?'

There was no need to add a request of privacy. Stephen was already half way out his chair before she had finished her sentence.

'Sit.'

Both Cassy and Stephen halted. For a second, Stephen looked as though he might actually follow Shandy's order – delivered cold and sharp, an unusual tone to his cheerful voice – but he then stood and snatched his bag from the tabletop.

'Oh-ho!' laughed Shandy.

There were only a few seconds available for Cassy to study Shandy's face before Stephen strode by and she was forced to follow. Yet, in those few seconds she saw a lot. His face was tensed, carefully masked but no well enough as stress leaked out at the corners of his eyes and the edges of his mouth. His shoulders were relaxed, though his hands dragged stiffly across the table as he flexed his right hand, never quite making a fist.

Cassy walked casually after her friend into the denser part of the library. Her quicker steps were almost unnoticeable, but she did not bother to hide her interest as she rounded on Stephen.

'He is angry,' she said.

'Livid, probably,' he agreed.

'Because you followed me instead of listening to him? It seems rather unwarranted.'

'A lot about him is unwarranted,' he retorted. 'He's been handing insults out all afternoon about you.'

'Lovely to know I still annoy him enough to make him talk about me. Anyway, we will still _meet, _I am just not sure where yet._'_

Stephen nodded. 'I figured as much. Do you want me to tell Astoria?'

'If you would not mind. She is quite allusive,' said Cassy with a smile.

'Noticed that, have you? She's been a bit off lately,' he admitted.

Cassy had noticed. Astoria had been more difficult to locate at meal times and she had not seen her lingering in the hallways as much either. She was as blunt and cheerful as she had always been in conversation, but she could not help but feel as though something was amiss. From the depths of her mind, Cassy tried to recall if she had seen Daphne any less than last year. Nothing arose. Daphne was a cool character at the best of times, even if she and Cassy had competed as children for near enough everything. Cassy was smarter, yet Daphne was always better liked.

'Anyway,' said Cassy, 'I am going to dinner. Are you coming?'

'I've got to finish my homework. I have Charms Club tonight,' replied Stephen.

'You attend Charms Club? It's been reinstated then?' said Cassy, genuinely interested.

Stephen shrugged as though talking of himself was a common occurrence. 'I thought I'd try something new.'

Cassy narrowed her eyes a fraction and Stephen did the same mockingly in return. With a raised eyebrow to let him know she was not wholly convinced that was the reason and he seemed to take some pleasure in her suspicion. Cassy said her goodbye and traipsed back through the library, careful to avoid Shandy. There was something odd about him lately and Cassy was not keen to figure it out right then.

As it turned out, Johnson had been unable to get permission to reinstate the Gryffindor team. Professor Umbridge said she would think about it and so practice was cancelled that night. Still, Harry gazed at Cassy with hopeful eyes and a cheeky smile as they began their homework and with a large sigh, Cassy settled onto the sofa next to him and took the parchment from his hands.

'Just this once,' she said, her arm brushing his as she shifted. She pretended not to notice she had sat closer than necessary. Harry either had not noticed, or not minded, for he just grinned instead and began to work on another piece he had left too long.

'I'm glad you were paying attention to what I put in my potion, because I wasn't,' said Harry.

'One of us had to be, lest we both die,' she replied absently.

'Oh, so it's okay if one of us dies?'

'It might be.'

Harry nudged Cassy. Her quill scrawled across the plan in a thick black line and she did nothing to rectify it. Harry would just have to read around it. As Harry complained about the mess she had made on his work – the mess he had made, she retorted – noise began to increase all around the common room. The twins were testing their newest products on a willing audience, banishing colourful vomit and catching fainting first-years as they slumped to the ground unconscious. The only sound louder than that of the cheerful laughter it invoked was Hermione's grinding teeth.

Harry grinned and rolled up his homework.

'You need to pay more attention in class if you want to be an Auror,' said Cassy as she cast him a playfully pointed look.

Harry shrugged. 'I will when _things_ are sorted... or you could just do my homework every night.'

Cassy shoved his shoulder and rolled her eyes.

'Seriously though, we need to find somewhere. It was going to be hard enough with thirty-odd people anyway, now it's a secret we're in even bigger trouble,' he said.

'The only place I can think of is the third floor. It is still not being used, but it would mean we would have to keep a close eye on the map constantly,' offered Cassy.

Harry hummed and threw back his head. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, before his eyes slowly slid back to Cassy. 'I was going to ask earlier, but are you all right? Malfoy was being a right prat.'

'Yes, he was. Any mention of my mother makes me angry though, and lately he has just been... infuriating. He's trying to discredit me at every turn,' grumbled Cassy.

'I've been telling you for years he's a git,' said Harry.

Cassy cast him a long, narrow-eyed sideways glare. Then, she huffed. 'Fair point,' she said, not having the energy to try and convince Harry that her cousin had his nice traits.

Neither Harry nor Cassy moved from their close proximity on the sofa, even as Neville dropped down on the farthest end with a loud groan of relief. He had been searching high and low in his room for his notes on the dreams he had had all week that he had made for his Divination homework. Harry waved away Neville's complaint of being unable to remember his dreams, Harry had made them up for the last three weeks of the assignment anyway.

Harry blinked slowly and turned back to Cassy. 'Trelawney's on probation, did you know?'

'No,' said Cassy, only mildly interested and even less surprised.

'She was furious during inspection. She spent most of the lesson in tears. It was horrible,' added Neville.

Harry worked with Neville to add more mundane dreams to his chart. Occasionally, more peculiar ideas made their way onto the chart, becoming more bizarre as the month continued to the point where Harry's dreams of Voldemort could not rival the interest Neville's would gather. Harry caught Cassy's eye and winked.

Cassy laughed to herself and shook her head.

Eventually, the noise began to fade. Fred and George packed up their display, having earnt themselves pockets full of Galleons. As their attraction was gone, the other students began to make their way to bed too and soon enough the common room was empty minutes after twelve. Hermione waved her wand around the fireplace in an attempt to remove the lingering smell of vomit. Ginny sat on the floor in front of the sofa, her hands full of brightly wrapped sweets she had stolen from her brothers when their backs were turned. She held up each one and turned them over between her fingers, but there were no words on the paper.

'I can't exactly remember what each one does,' said Ginny.

'Maybe someone should eat one,' said Neville as he bit the end of his quill.

'Well volunteered, Nev,' said Harry, clapping him on the shoulder.

'What, no,' protested Neville quickly.

'I won't clean up anyone's sick,' said Hermione.

'What sick?' came a sudden voice.

Everyone's heads whipped around in surprise. There was no one behind them, or at the stairs, the portrait hole was still shut. In unison, they all turned to the fire. Sure enough, a disembodied head floated amongst the flames.

'Sirius!' greeted Harry excitedly.

'How are things?' asked Sirius.

'Umbridge's banned all clubs. There's no Quidditch,' said Harry.

'Or secret Defence Organisations?' suggested Sirius. He laughed loudly at the scandalised expression of each of their faces. 'You need to choose a better place for meetings. Somewhere noisy so you can't easily be overheard. Mundungus was at the bar, he told us everything. Apparently a Slytherin was there?'

Cassy's eyebrows instantly dipped low. 'She is my friend. I have already said I will take care of anything.'

'I wasn't going to say anything,' defended Sirius quickly.

'Mundungus should have said hello,' said Ginny in disappointment, quickly diverting the conversation.

'He's banned from the Hog's Head, although he would not say why,' said Sirius with a grin. 'Also, I have a message from Molly. She demands that none of her children take part, lest you get into trouble. She advises the rest of you to do the same. That said, Cassy, as your father, I would be most disappointed if you did not take part in a secret, illegal organisation. Same to you as your Godfather, Harry.'

Cassy and Harry grinned.

'Oh, and Neville, your Grandmother was hysterical when she heard,' continued Sirius.

Neville groaned and covered his face with his hands.

'I have never seen her so happy.'

Neville paused and slowly looked at Sirius from between his fingers. 'What?'

'I have never seen her so happy,' repeated Sirius. 'She was so proud she threatened to buy you a new wand, although I am not sure why.'

Neville's cheeks flushed with colour and a beaming smile broke out onto his face. He looked oddly as though he had single-handedly won the Quidditch World Cup. 'Excellent.'

'So, where are you all going to meet then? Mundungus said there were quite a few of you,' asked Sirius merrily.

'We don't know,' said Harry. 'We were planning on working it out tonight.'

'What about the Shrieking Shack? You just need to take the passage on the forth-floor,' suggested Sirius.

'It's blocked,' replied Hermione.

Sirius hummed. His thoughtful face suddenly changed. The flickering image of his grey widened and his head shot to the side, out of sight, just as a foreign hand broke into flames. It grabbed at where he had been and before anyone could see if a face followed it, they had jumped to their feet and scattered behind the furniture. There was no voice to follow.

Slowly, Cassy poked her head out from behind the sofa and beneath a side table. The flames danced orange and transparent. Not a face or hand in sight. Carefully, she stood.

'I think we all know for sure who attacked Hedwig,' said Harry stiffly.

'We need to sort out a meeting place as soon as possible,' breathed Hermione.

After a few minutes of waiting, they were all certain Sirius would not try to contact them again that night. It had been too close. Although Harry's eyes continued to watch the fire closely for some time, he eventually agreed to head to bed with the rest of them. Cassy and Hermione bid goodnight to Ginny as they entered their dormitory and close the door quietly behind them. Cassy waved her wand, igniting the lantern on her bedside table to shed some light in the dark room. Pavarti moaned slightly in her sleep, but she and Lavender continued to sleep soundly.

Hermione glanced at Cassy as she sat on the edge of her bed, brushing through her wild hair.

'Cassy,' she whispered, 'you don't think Sirius only agrees with our plan because he's restless himself do you?'

Cassy looked up at her as she untied her bun.

'I mean, I know he is your father, but I can't help but wonder if he is so desperate to do something useful that he feels as though encouraging us to do something in his place is a good idea,' she expanded. She bit her lip and Cassy mulled the idea over in her mind.

'We did have the idea ourselves, he did not put it in our heads,' offered Cassy quietly after a moment.

'Yes, but he also didn't give us any sort of warnings. He seemed a little _too_ keen,' said Hermione.

Cassy threw the duvet over her legs and stared up at the red curtains above her. The faint sound of the clock on Hermione's bedside table filled the silence. Hermione's sheets ruffled as she tucked herself in and it was only then that Cassy breathed out deeply. The phrase 'you are not nearly as much like your father as I thought' that Sirius had said to Harry only a few weeks before echoed in her mind. He had been upset that Harry did not want him to risk his life to see him. Cassy knew Hermione might be right, but as long as Sirius did not act upon his impulses then Cassy would say nothing more of it.

* * *

**Another chapter is done! I apologise that this is mainly a connecting chapter.**

**Chapters sixteen and seventeen will be uploaded together as they relate very heavily, so it might take me a little bit of time to edit them before publishing them, especially as chapter sixteen is 11,300 words. They were honestly not the easiest chapters to write because I had this idea in my head that did not translate very well into words, so I am not too fond of them currently. They are 90-95% original plot. **

**Anyway, thank-you for the reviews and hello to my new readers! I love getting emails. **

**Thanks!**


	16. We move in opposite directions

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XVI: We move in opposite directions**

Brightly coloured sweets of every flavour rattled in the paper bag in Cassy's hands. She dipped in and out of it, popping more of the sugary treats into her mouth. It did not matter that the clock had only just past five a.m, or that the Sun had yet to rise over the hillside. She wandered down the spiral staircase, already dressed in her school uniform with her hair tied back in a fishtail braid and pulled over her left shoulder.

The fire crackled noisily in the silence of the common room. Cassy walked by the scarlet sofa, before she paused and reversed her steps. She peered over the back of the chair and down at the lanky form that lay on the cushions. Hair messier than usual and his glasses skewed, Harry Potter lay sound asleep.

Silently, Cassy moved to the edge and sat on the arm of the sofa. She stared at him for several long moments. After a while it seemed as though the theory that someone could sense a stare and wake up did not really work, or at least Harry did not care if Cassy stared, so instead she leant over to pluck the book from his stomach where it lay open.

Suddenly, his green-eyes opened and he stared up at her dark blue-eyes for a moment with no reaction. Then, as her eyebrows drifted upwards he yelped and shot up, narrowly missing butting heads as Cassy darted backwards just in time.

'Morning,' drawled Cassy.

'Cassy!' he marvelled.

She did not say anything more and instead eyed his creased uniform with interest.

'Ah,' he said, his spine popped as he stretched, 'Dobby was about last night, I could hear him from my room. I spoke to him and it turns out he's been cleaning the Tower alone because of Hermione's knitting. None of the other elves want to clean it.'

'I bet she will love that,' scoffed Cassy.

'Don't look so happy. If anyone's telling her it will have to be you. She loves knitting for them,' said Harry. He dipped his hand into the bag of sweets in Cassy's hand. 'Anyway, he was wearing about six sets of everything and I mentioned to him about needing somewhere to meet. He said on the seventh floor opposite the tapestry there is a door that will appear when someone passes that needs something. He reckons if we go there it will give us a room to practise in.'

Cassy raised her eyebrows high onto her head in fascination.

'I was thinking of asking everyone to attend tonight at eight. Most people haven't got their clubs reinstated yet and no one below third-year signed up, so we have until nine before we have to be back,' he suggested.

When Harry excused himself to change his uniform, Cassy read over the essay he had dropped on the floor from the night before. Most of the last paragraph was jumbled sentences and misspelt words. She smirked down at the paper when she heard Harry approaching. He snatched the essay from her hands and scrunched it up into his pocket.

'I don't even want to know what that says, thank-you,' he grumbled.

She laughed and he helped himself to more sweets. The two sat by the fire until other students began to wake and drift into the common room. It was not until breakfast that Harry told Neville, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna of his plans. They each nodded and said they would help take care of finding the other members through the day to let them know. Word had spread through the Gryffindors by the time breakfast was over and Luna promised to make a start on the Ravenclaws during her break next period.

Cassy slipped a note into Astoria's pocket as she passed in the corridor, ensuring to tug it just enough to catch her attention. Before Luna had a chance to catch him, Cassy also cornered Stephen and managed to find Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot on the way to their next class. Ginny found her boyfriend and his friends, while Neville spread the word to the rest of Hufflepuff. By the end of dinner, they were certain that everyone knew when and where to meet.

Cassy, Harry, Neville, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna left early from their common rooms and met at the staircases on the fourth floor before making their way to the seventh. Despite having told everyone they had a place to practise, none of the six had had the time to actually test Dobby's story. They arrived opposite the tapestry and to the surprise of no one, faced a large, blank wall. They each stared at it, thinking hard, but nothing seemed to happen.

'I would still like to visit the Shrieking Shack,' said Cassy conversationally, as Hermione paced back and forth in front of the wall.

'Same,' said Harry. 'We should go their next Hogsmeade visit, if Umbridge doesn't ban me or something.'

'She's currently in her office,' said Neville, holding the Marauder's Map. 'Filch is on the second floor.'

'You do know the Shrieking Shack is forbidden, right?' said Hermione. She frowned up the wall.

'So?' said Harry.

'It's supposed to be the most haunted place in Britain, it's not somewhere you two can run off to because you're bored,' she said, throwing a flat stare over her shoulder.

Harry shrugged. 'There are ghosts all around Hogwarts. What difference does it make?'

'Besides, they cannot be any worse than Peeves,' added Cassy.

'We're going to have to hold meetings there soon enough if we don't figure out this door,' interrupted Ginny. She stood with her hands on her hips as she scrutinized the stone.

Luna skipped forward to Neville's side. 'Maybe there are too many of us thinking different things.'

'So we should all think the same thing at the same time?' questioned Neville.

Luna nodded and everyone glanced between one another. They fell silent and stared hard at the wall, each pushing forward the thought of the room they expected to see. Somewhere to train themselves, they each thought simply, somewhere secret.

Sure enough, the wall began to shift. A wooden door appeared in front of them. A brass handle protruded from the centre of it.

'Brilliant, Luna,' praised Cassy.

'It's common sense, really,' she said lightly in return.

Harry was the first one to the door. He peaked around the door's edge, before throwing it open for the rest of them to see. Large, coloured cushions littered the ground in tiny nests and bookcases filled to the ceiling lined the walls. Dim torches and a large chandelier lit the room, windows absent but bright enough. Sneakoscopes and Secrecy Sensors sat on the farthest desk, and right in the corner was a Foe-Glass. There was a large floor space and mirrors hung on one wall, next to wooden dummies and a straw target.

'It is fantastically spacious,' said Cassy, 'the kind of room I needed to teach Harry to dance.'

'Oy.' Harry flushed a faint pink and Cassy laughed under her breath.

'What excellent books,' came Hermione's voice from the far side.

'Do you think the others will see the door on the outside? Do you think it vanishes when we're in her?' asked Ginny.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. A head of flaming orange-hair poked through the crack before Ron, Dean, Pavarti, and Lavender entered. They marvelled at the space as much as the first six had and once the door was closed there was another knock and another bundle of students piled inside. Within minutes, the entire group had gathered, all eager to be on time. Cassy stood beside Harry, counting the heads. She nodded to him, but before Harry could speak, Hermione cleared her throat.

'Just to be sure. I want everyone to vote on who they think the leader should be, just so there are no fights about it later,' she said, drawing in everyone's attention.

There was a slight murmur, but as Hermione requested, everyone put up their hand in favour of Harry, even Zacharias Smith.

'We need a name,' said Cassy. 'We need something that we can refer to that will not bring attention to us. Does anyone have any thoughts?'

There was a buzz of thought amongst the group. Everyone murmured to themselves, before Chang called out: 'How about the Defence Association. We can be the DA for short.'

Even Cassy, who would rather like to disagree on principal the idea had come from Cho Chang, saw the benefit of a nickname and was not entirely averse to being dubbed the 'DA'. It was short and could stand for many things. In the end, she did not have to protest, because Ginny shook her head.

'What about "Dumbledore's Army" instead? It's what the Ministry fears most, isn't it?' she offered and there was a surge of agreement.

'All right,' said Harry, 'Dumbledore's Army; the DA for short.'

Hermione scribbled the new title on the top of the list of attendees she had pinned to the wall.

Cassy felt a bubble of excitement rise in her stomach. Not only were they finally beginning to take charge of themselves, but their association had a meeting place, members, and a name. The only thing they lacked specifically was a smooth, secret form of communication, but Cassy thought to mention that to Hermione later. Now that they had met for the first time, a rebellious flare sparked in her and she almost outwardly beamed at the concept of having their own version of the Order of the Phoenix, no matter how juvenile it might be.

'I thought we'd begin with disarming charms,' said Harry. 'Expelliamus has saved my life more than once.'

'Like that's going to work against You-Know-Who,' snorted Smith.

Harry narrowed his eyes. 'It does. I used it last year and I'm still here.'

Smith pursed his lips, but remained silent.

'Right, so if you want to get into pairs to practice with, we can get started.'

'Perhaps you should give them a demonstration first,' whispered Cassy, leaning close to Harry.

'Er – right, hang on everyone. Me and Cassy will demonstrate first and then you can split off,' called Harry. He drew his wand and backed away as everyone turned back to attention. He cleared his throat, flustered and began to pace away from Cassy. She did the same, putting twelve wide steps between them.

'Okay, so _Expelliarmus_ is just a simple sharp jerk of your wand. It doesn't need a specific motion beyond that,' explained Harry. 'For example, _Expelliarmus_!'

Cassy did not move. She allowed her wand to be flung from her hand, where Harry caught it effortlessly on the other side of the room.

'Cassy, do it back to me,' said Harry as he handed it back.

Cassy flicked her wand. '_Expelliarmus._'

Harry's wand flew towards her. She caught it and Harry shook his hand.

'That stung,' he hissed. 'Depending on the power put in the spell, it can actually cause injury. It can break their hand, even render them unconscious. For now, I just want you guys to practise disarming. We don't really have any healers.'

'I can heal toes,' offered Luna airily.

'Er – great, Luna,' said Harry slowly.

Luna stood with a serene smile on her face, as though very proud of herself. Ginny grinned beside her and Hermione huffed.

With faces of doubt and scepticism directed at the short, blonde girl, everyone separated out into groups. Harry pushed Cassy, Neville, and Hermione together so he could wander amongst the group. The room was filled with shouts and flying wands. Neville snapped the command, but nothing happened. He frowned down at his wand.

'It's all right,' said Hermione. 'Just try it again.'

Neville waved his hand and a slight buzz shot through Cassy's hand. Her wand was still held firmly within it. He tried again and again. Hermione looked nervously at Cassy as Neville became more and more desperate. Part of Cassy expected Hermione to drop her wand in pity, but they both held fast. Hermione focused her attention on giving advice and tips to him, how to better the motion, or the intent of his spell; none of it seemed to make a difference.

As wands flew all around them, Neville had not caused a single one by the time Harry called an end to the meeting. Many beaming faces shone through the crowd, several almost skipping as they fled from the room in the tiny groups Harry let slip through the door. The map was hidden at his side; Professor Umbridge was in her classroom and Filch was patrolling the Dungeons.

Astoria flashed her eyebrows at Cassy as she left, mouthing for her to wish her luck. Cassy had no worries whether Astoria would get back all right. Neither points deducted or a detention would deter her and even then Cassy was sure if her friend tried hard enough she would get by unnoticed anyway.

Instead, Cassy turned her attention back to Neville. Harry was already at his side with a hand on his shoulder as the fifth-year Gryffindors all slipped into the hall together. He was muttering lowly into Neville's ear with a faint smile on his lips, but Neville had long since deflated and it seemed to be doing little good. Deciding not to overwhelm him with sympathy – it would only make Neville sink further into himself mistaking it for pity – Cassy set her sights ahead.

Walking in front and to the side of her was Dean. Ron had vanished with Hermione, opting to at least make it appear as though they had done their Prefect rounds that night, so Dean walked alone. It was not that he was alone that caught her attention, nor the way his feet were half-a-step slower than usual, or how his hands were stuffed in his pockets, which could be many things, but rather the slight tensing of his jaw and the way his wand jutted from his pocket oddly, suggesting it was still somewhat clenched in his hand.

Cassy took two quick steps forward and peered up at him.

'Are you all right?' she asked.

'Fine,' he said with a sudden grin.

Cassy raised an eyebrow. 'Liar.'

'Really,' he insisted. When Cassy continued to stare at him, he sighed heavily. 'I am just glad we're doing something to defend ourselves.'

'You do not seem very glad,' she commented.

'I am, truthfully. I just... I'm angry that Umbridge's stopping us. If You-Know-Who has returned then a lot of us are in danger,' he admitted, frowning once more.

'Are you afraid?' she asked.

'I'm not sure. Are you?'

Cassy was quiet for a moment. She did not know if she was afraid. She had not thought about it and could not recall feeling frightened since she had heard the news. Somehow, that did not cover her feelings though. Looking ahead, she quietly confessed, 'I suppose. I fear losing people. I fear for my friends and what will become of us all when he makes his move. Right now though it hardly seems relevant, does it?'

'It's hard to image he's out there. Nothing's in the news, just some missing people from what Ron's said,' said Dean, knowingly.

'You have not been keeping track of it yourself?' asked Cassy in mild surprise.

'I stopped getting the _Prophet_ when Skeeter started printing that stuff about Harry last year. I wonder where she went, actually.'

Cassy refrained from grinning. 'I am sorry, you know, for not speaking more over summer. It was difficult for me.'

'Difficult?' he asked with a frown.

Cassy pursed her lips. 'My Great Uncle died.'

'Oh!' exclaimed Dean in shock. 'I'm sorry, I didn't know!'

Cassy waved her hand dismissively. If Dean did not get the paper then he would probably not know and even then he had no need to read the obituary.

'Is that why Hermione's so worried about you?' he questioned.

'She is?' Cassy asked suspiciously.

'She asked me if we'd spoken and how you were,' he explained. 'I said we hadn't talked since the beginning of term.'

Cassy pursed her lips and said, 'Sorry. I should have made more of an effort. It is just that I was so busy last year trying to make sure Harry got through the tournament and with personal things occurring, things just got the better of me. That's not an excuse, of course. I should have made time.'

So caught up in her unintended rudeness towards her friend, it took her a moment to realise Dean had laughed. Confused, she peered up at him from beneath furrowed brows, while he stared back ahead with a hand ruffling his tight, black-hair.

'To be honest, I avoided you myself a little after Christmas,' he confessed. Cassy took a moment to almost feel offended, but he continued before she could ask. 'I quite fancied you then. I was going to ask you to the ball, actually. Then you began dating that Ravenclaw guy and I just... yeah, so, I'm sorry for that.'

'Ravenclaw? Stephen? Stephen and I are not dating,' said Cassy slowly, squinting. 'We never have.'

'Really?' said Dean, shocked.

'Why would you have that impression?' asked Cassy incredulously.

'Dunno. You talk a lot, you're both smart and attractive. General things.' He shrugged.

'I will have to tell him you think he's attractive,' smirked Cassy.

Dean shrugged again. 'Tell him, I don't care.'

Cassy laughed and he laughed with her. She had not spoken to Dean in person in so long that she felt it should have been awkward, but instead conversation came easily and she very much regretted not finding time for him last year. He would have been a good friend to have over the summer if she had just tried a bit harder.

'You said you _used_ to like me, so does that mean you like someone else now?' asked Cassy slyly.

'I don't have to fancy anyone.' He shrugged.

Cassy smirked and narrowed her eyes. 'That is true, but I can tell you do, so go on.'

Dean remained stubbornly silent. His head remained forward and his lips were pursed comically into a deep grimace.

Cassy cocked her head to one side. 'Is it Seamus?'

Dean chocked. Cassy chortled loudly and Lavender and Pavarti turned to watch the pair curiously.

'What? No,' he laughed. 'If you must know, it's _Ginny_.'

'Ginny?' repeated Cassy with interest. She paused for a moment then snorted. 'Ron will kill you.'

'_I know_.'

* * *

The next morning, Cassy was reading the Occulmency book when Hermione shot up from her bed. There had barely been a second between her opening her eyes and her darting to rummage beneath her bed. She grunted noisily as her bushy hair fell in her face, obscuring her vision of the already darkened space.

Whatever it was that had Hermione so energised before dawn was apparently written in the crinkled pages of a thick, leather-bound book. She heaved it onto the red covers and Cassy turned her head, trying to read the cover from where she lay on her own bed.

Hermione turned to her suddenly. She blinked and then scowled. 'Go to sleep!'

'Hypocrite,' answered Cassy placidly.

'Honestly, I am starting to think you might as well be some sort of vampire. If you are up then at least don't be so lazy.' Hermione eyed to book hovering above Cassy's face. Her hands were tucked snugly beneath her blankets, her dragon-heartstring wand loose in her grip to keep the book afloat and turn the pages without having to move.

'I don't want to sit up,' said Cassy simply.

Hermione shook her head. 'That still makes you lazy.'

'What is the book for?' asked Cassy.

'I just thought of how we can communicate more stealthily,' she said. If she noticed Cassy's expression flatten, she did not comment. Instead, she ran her finger down the rows of indexed pages. 'I thought about how You-Know-Who does it – I'm not suggesting we all go and get tattoos, but we can enchant objects the same way. Do you have any thoughts? You usually come up with something to disagree with me.'

Honestly, Cassy had not given it the slightest thought. When she had returned the previous night to the common room, she had buried her head in another one of the books from the Black Family library. The front was enchanted to look like the Muggle Studies text and with no one taking the class with her, no one thought it odd she had homework to do that night. Even when she had woken, her mind had returned to her Occulmency book tucked beneath her pillow.

'You expressed interest, I thought I would not interfere,' she lied. 'So, are you looking for the Protean Charm?'

'I am,' agreed Hermione distantly. 'It must be an older year spell.

She rapidly turned the pages of _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade Seven_ until she found the page she wanted.

'Are you free for the double this morning? Not got any plans?' asked Hermione eagerly.

'I am available,' agreed Cassy with interest.

'Good. We can probably get these done today!'

Breakfast was a short affair. In Hermione's eagerness to sort the details of Dumbledore's Army and Cassy want to confirm a seventh-year spell would be simple enough to master in two hours, the girls folded toast into tissues and stuffed them into their satchels. Harry and Neville watched them leave curiously, with no explanation given beyond the ambitious glint in the girls' eyes.

Thankfully, the library was empty as the clock struck nine. The pair huddled themselves at a desk far out of sight in a sparely trodden area of the library. It did not take long for Cassy to figure out exactly how Hermione had stumbled upon such a secluded table. There was no other tables in sight, perfect for them to try to design some sort of sign for the members without worries of oversight.

Cassy leant back on her chair. 'Do you still keep in contact with Viktor Krum then?'

'What?' asked Hermione.

'Krum. That is why you knew where to find this place right? Whether to avoid him or to meet him, I do not really care to know.' Cassy waved her hand.

Hermione turned her nose to the air and without appearing embarrassed at all replied, 'If you must know, we still write to each other occasionally. He's been pretty busy since he graduated. On to more important things, I thought maybe we could make the object a coin. That way it would be something people wouldn't think anything of if they found it. A Galleon, maybe. That way it's big enough to be read.'

'It will need to heat up or vibrate when the date is changed. Otherwise people will forget to look,' added Cassy thoughtfully. 'The numerals on the sides could change to be the date and time.'

Hermione nodded her head and began to spread the stack of books they had collected between them.

'We will need the master coin first and then twenty-nine more of them. The replication should be simple enough...' she muttered.

It took half an hour for the pair to work out the finer details of the coins. The weight, the shine, the markings. By the time they had Transfigured the Master coin to the point they were both satisfied – which was less bickering for once and more over-examination of a real Galleon versus their fake one – the bell sounded to signal the transition for the next class. Both Cassy and Hermione had firm frowns on their faces as they hurriedly packed away. They had spent so long on the aesthetics that they had not even managed to attempt the Protean Charm.

'Tonight,' amended Hermione as they raced down the corridor. 'We'll have it done by tonight now the hard part is done.'

Cassy did not reply. She opened her mouth to catch her breath as the pair stumbled to a stop at the end of the hall. Clothes were straightened out before they reached the Gryffindors and Slytherins waiting outside the dungeon classroom. The two lines stood apart on opposite sides of the door.

Class proceeded smoother than it ever had before. Professor Snape appeared to find Harry's essay acceptable and he received no more homework. The peculiar work dedication that had taken over Harry weeks before reappeared and Cassy again watched in fascination. Harry appeared to genuinely be putting effort into his work and Cassy could not think of any sort of correlation between the events while she sneaked sideways peaks every few minutes to see if his attention had waned yet.

'Where has this skill come from then? Potion making, I mean,' whispered Cassy once Professor Snape began chastising Goyle for dropping a whole rat's tail into his cauldron.

'Thought I might make an effort,' he murmured back. 'Problem?'

'None at all. I am impressed actually,' she admitted.

Harry grinned down at her. 'Good.'

Cassy's cheeks coloured the faintest bit, but Harry had already turned his head.

The good feeling did not fade as the day went on. Harry's brightened behaviour at his underground organisation had raised several eyebrows, yet no one had the heart to comment on it, silently thankful for the change of atmosphere. Cassy thought she had even caught Professor McGonagall smiling at him as she passed. Harry only served to boost Neville's own happiness. He beamed at the slightest occurrence, simply overjoyed he was making his grandmother proud as Harry had spent the previous night insisting, even if it was being part of a dangerous, secretive society.

By the second meeting, Cassy and Hermione had completed the Galleons. The session went much like the first, running over time and dispersing in small groups with the help of the Marauders' Map. It had become increasingly difficult to organise another meeting, however. Quidditch season was about to begin and with so many various players called for last-minute practice and ever changing arrangements, Harry had not had the opportunity to use his Master Galleon.

The Gryffindor team were up from dawn until dusk for their upcoming game. Johnson was worried, Harry had told them one day after a rigorous four hour session. Ron was saving less and less goals as the match against Slytherin drew closer. Word had spread of his miserable performance, although the team had tried to squash it, and many Slytherins had taken to sitting in the stands to watch and jeer each time Gryffindor entered the stadium. The chants and calls only unsettled Ron more. The more his missed, the more time they were forced to spend in practice and Harry was very sceptical he would see any of the Halloween Feast.

'The match is on Saturday,' he sighed. 'Angelina wants us practising non-stop until then, so I would be amazed if she let us grab more than a slice of toast on Thursday. I'll just have to stock up on breakfast instead.'

Many of the Quidditch team seemed to have the same idea and Cassy left breakfast on Halloween morning slightly paler at the sight of so many fighting, shovelling hands up and down the table. Harry had spent much of his meal trying to coax Ron to eat instead. He had turned stiff and silent in his seat, like a man awaiting his execution later that day.

Cassy patted his shoulder comfortingly as she left, entrusting him to Hermione's motherliness as she tried again to jab a waffle into his tightly closed mouth.

The first lesson of the day was Muggle Studies. Ernie Macmillan and Terry Boot turned to greet her and she nodded back, before they fell into a hushed conversation, careful to make it seem as though the interaction was inconsequential, accidental almost, as Cassy and Boot pretended to take an interest in Macmillan's literary club badge pinned to the front of his robe. The conversation fell away as it always did when they pretended to be strangers amongst the potential prying eyes of their classmates. However, after two weeks of fake introductions, Boot had even ventured to sit next to her in class. He had chosen the worst day to do so, for the rounded, toad-faced form of Professor Umbridge bustled into the room moments later.

Behind them, Macmillan groaned.

The class sat in a tense silence for a minute before Professor Burbage entered spiritedly.

'Good morning, Professor Umbridge,' she said brightly.

There was no verbal reply, but Cassy assumed her to be smiling sweetly in the corner.

To the credit of Professor Burbage, she paid no attention to her observer. She conducted the class with as much enthusiasm as ever and had brought an array of items from her personal collection to show and pass around as she always did. A muggle photograph was pinned to the wall beside a magical one, both of the same moment and woman, but only one moving and in her hand was a small devise Cassy recognised as a camcorder, the same model Harry had had on his desk in Privet Drive.

'Today's topic is the long awaited one of Muggle Entertainment!' announced Professor Burbage. 'Now, as you know this is an extension of our culture theme this term and there is little more influential in Muggle culture than this.' She pulled back a sheet from her desk to reveal a chunky, silver box with a black square centre. 'This, in case you have already forgotten from last week, is a television. Who wants to tell me about it then?'

There was little to be surprised by, Cassy found, in the continued study of Muggle media. She had seen a television working before and had watched several videos one with Hermione, so the in-depth explanation of a comparison to magical photographs and Muggle television was not one that captured her attention quite as much as her classmates. It was easy to see who had been raised with some Muggle exposure and those who had not by the ones who leant forward in their seats in anticipation and eagerness as Professor Burbage unravelled a video tape all over the floor.

Lists of genres of films were handed out with brief descriptions of the plots beneath each title. After a few moments of reading, a small cough sounded from the back of the class.

Cassy shook her head. She knew Professor Umbridge had been too quiet for too long.

'Professor,' said the High Inquisitor sweetly, 'do you really think it's appropriate to be including _"Action_" films on this list? After all, it is where lots of Muggles are thought to learnt their violent and barbaric habits from.'

There was a stunned silence.

'Well, I think it represents their struggles and fears. I mean, yes, it might be for entertainment some times, but I find them no different to the books and comics children read in our society. They are full of violence too,' spluttered Professor Burbage.

Professor Umbridge said nothing and scribbled down a note on her parchment. Cassy thought it would be no surprise of comics and books were banned the following day.

The silence was broken again when they turned to a section titled 'Horror'.

'Are you going to stress the realism in these themes?' asked Professor Umbridge, not even having bothered to cough. 'I am worried that these are not appropriate to discuss at this age. Many of these "supernatural" themes are common life for us, it is not important now to stress the secrecy of our culture?'

'I was going to,' insisted Professor Burbage. 'However, I stand by, children, that this is because there is not enough understanding of these themes and that is why they fear magic, so do not take these depictions too seriously – '

'In this… _film_ they kill a witch for protecting her home. They stab her! That is a threat to be taken seriously,' insisted Professor Umbridge, shrilly.

'It would be in real life, yes – '

'Without secrecy this would be real life!' Professor Umbridge waved the handout. 'This, children, is why we have a secrecy law and those who break it are severely punished. Surely these films only serve to illustrate how Muggles cannot handle a Magical society? Do you not agree that there must be boundaries between us, Professor?'

Professor Burbage shrunk into herself. Meekly, she replied, 'Yes.'

Professor Umbridge shuffled her notes and picked up her quill once again with a small smile on her painted pink lips.

Boot caught Cassy's eye and they sneered at one another in mutual hate.

The interesting lesson vanished and was replaced with an unenthusiastic read-through of the types of films and the dangers of them. Not once did Professor Umbridge interrupt. She hummed and nodded in agreement often after that, smiling widely as the lesson was called to an end.

Everyone filed out quickly, eager to be rid of her, but as Cassy left, she heard Professor Umbridge's first follow-up question.

'Do you think having been _exposed _to Muggles as a child has damaged your view on society? Is your Muggle grandfather coping with you being a witch, or does he loath you?'

Cassy's nose crinkled. She knew that Professor Umbridge would most likely dislike Muggles, the Ministry would not send anyone else to prune untraditional practices, but she had not expected her to be so open about it. It was another trait for a long list of vile components that made up Dolores Umbridge.

It was not until after Potions that Cassy recited everything to Hermione. On any other day, the furious social justice rant would have been tiring, but Cassy welcomed it for a change. Uncaring of who heard, the pair continued the conversation through lunch and all the way to Ancient Runes until it dissolved into a competition who could form the best insult for their teacher without anyone realising their subject. Suddenly, Hermione groaned.

Cassy followed her gaze and their laughter halted. Outside of their classroom was the very topic of conversation.

'Oh, not now,' hissed Cassy. She had had enough of her for one day, she need not ruin another lesson.

'I thought she had already observed this one,' moaned Hermione quietly.

Professor Babbling cast a critical eye over Professor Umbridge once class had begun and never turned to her again as the lesson progressed. She paced between the desks, silently watching over them as they translated runes into English. Only the slight scratching of quills on parchment sounded in the tiny classroom. The chair occasionally squeaked as people shifted in thought, but no one spoke, their concentration was too valuable to waste on idle chatter. It was only when Cassy and Hermione spotted each other stealing mutual glances to check their answers that Hermione put up her hand.

'Yes, Miss Granger?'

'Professor, I was wondering something in relation to the context of these Runes. You see, I noticed when doing some extra reading that some of them overlap with Egyptian hieroglyphs, quite commonly, actually. So, I wondered how that was possible. Ancient Runes were supposed to be some of the most powerful means of enchantments, so why were they not better hidden?' asked Hermione.

Professor Babbling looked pensive for a moment before replying, 'Over time, the enchantments grew weaker with the lack of renewal in certain areas, particularly those where a majority of the magical community had vacated. It is possible, according to popular theorists, that Muggles with particularly strong senses of self and open-mindedness are capable of seeing through milder enchantments - ' There was a loud giggle from the back of the class, 'just like the occasional witch or wizard might be able to see through a Glamour Charm, or an invisibility spell.'

Hermione's nose turned slightly higher into the air and Cassy knew she was doing her best not to scowl at Professor Umbridge.

'Why is it not a valid theory that Wizards adopted Muggle signs? They were more obvious, given the lack of secrecy,' she asked.

Professor Umbridge giggled louder this time.

With sharp eyes, Professor Babbling turned to her and the class followed suit.

'Is something amusing, _Dolores_?' she asked coolly.

'No, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just having a moment to myself,' said Professor Umbridge, her lips pressed tightly together as if doing her best to hide her vile smile.

'Oh, no. Please share. I assume you have an opinion on the discussion. The Ministry takes an avid interest in the writing of our history,' drawled Professor Babbling. Her flat tone made it utterly transparent that she had no interest in hearing the other teacher's thoughts, but either Professor Umbridge did not hear it, or she simply did not care.

'I just find it impossible that anyone could assume wizards adopted something so founding in our society from Muggles. Isn't the history of Runes taught in the first lesson of third-year?' she sniggered. 'I mean no disrespect, Professor. I am sure your teaching is of standard, but this is why I do not allow discussions in my classroom. Students come out with the strangest of things.'

The last month of their lessons had stressed how Runes development and Muggle civilisations grew hand in hand. They were not to be considered separate things and several of the students were openly frowning. Hermione sucked in a deep breath and twisted in her seat.

'There is no reason why wizards should not respect and admire Muggle creations. We use many of their ideas and merely change them to suit our needs – '

'Miss Granger! I told you in my own class not to call out. You speak when spoken to. Another ten points from Gryffindor,' scolded Professor Umbridge, her eyes having narrowed into thin slits, lost on her wide face.

'Don't the Ministry have a fleet of Muggle cars though?' added Michael Conner from across the room.

Hermione turned to him gratefully.

'Mr Conner, that is enough,' interjected Professor Babbling. 'If you wish to debate, do so after class not while in it.'

'We never did receive an answer though, Professor. If the most narrow-minded of people wish to interrupt a valuable discussion then let them, but I do not feel as though it should impact on our education,' stated Cassy.

'Miss Black!' cried Professor Babbling.

A crunch rang out from the back of the room. Professor Umbridge had crushed her quill in her wrinkled fingers. A sugary smile pulled at her lips, her cheeks were rosy with a faint flow of disguised rage. The sharpness of her eyes only glinted more when Cassy turned to view her with disinterested, half-lidded eyes.

'That is quite enough,' said Professor Babbling quickly. 'Black, fifteen points from Gryffindor for your remark.'

'I think she should spend the evening with me, Professor,' disagreed Professor Umbridge softly. 'If she really wishes to know the development of the society in which she lives then I will teach her. Someone from the House of Black ought to have a deep respect for their heritage. Detention, Miss Black, for the rest of the week. My office at half-six tonight.'

Beside her, Hermione hissed. Cassy did not care about the detention at all, nor that she would miss most of the Halloween feast, or the scar it would leave on her skin; instead she revelled in the pure loathing on Professor Umbridge's face, proud to know it was her who caused such contempt. Suddenly, Cassy understood why Harry had been so eager to speak out. There was something satisfying about watching her squirm.

* * *

There was not nearly as much scolding from Hermione as Cassy had expected when the lesson finally ended. She had smacked her with her book the moment they rounded the corner, but besides that, most of Hermione's efforts had been given to loathing the new arrangement and the unjustness of it all.

'I'll have to get a new bottle of disinfectant soon,' muttered Hermione to herself. 'I used quite a bit on Harry's cuts, but I'll have enough for tonight and tomorrow. It should be here by Monday. What do you think you'll have to write?'

'Something about heritage, probably,' offered Cassy.

'If you had just left out one word – ' groaned Hermione.

'I am tired of it, Hermione. I am tired of everything all the time and frankly I do not need someone insulting my heritage on top of everything else at the moment,' said Cassy.

Hermione pursed her lips and look down at her as they came to a halt on the marble staircases, waiting to switch.

'Since when did you consider Muggles to be your heritage?' she asked carefully.

Cassy shifted slightly, not wholly aware of the answer herself. With a slight frown, she said, 'I suppose it was when the Slytherin's decided my Muggle heritage was something to be played upon and prayed upon. If I am not like them then I must be something else, that something else happens to be something I have always found interesting. If I was not, then I would not have been audacious enough to take Muggle Studies. Even if I know nothing of my Muggle relatives, I do not enjoy hearing about them as though they are a subspecies.'

Cassy was wary of admitting that the talk of her mother bothered her. She was not something to be ridiculed, or the cause of so much laughter. Yet, she could not readily defend her either, knowing next to nothing of how the condition had arose, or how she was when she met her father. The irritation last year at the article had arisen from humiliation, the curious stares of wonderment that Cassy was not a pure-blood, she was from the seemingly worst type of Muggle too, one of the many examples of why the Wizarding World could not be revealed to them, but this time it had evolved into something more. It was no longer humiliation, but Cassy could not quite put her finger on how she felt either.

'I am always angry,' she admitted quietly, meeting Hermione's eye at last. 'All the time.'

'Why though?' asked Hermione, a grim look of sympathy on her face.

Cassy shook her head. 'It will be fine. I will manage.'

'Cassy,' implored Hermione.

'I will manage. Don't worry about it, all right?' said Cassy, shooting her friend a half-smile.

It was clear from the look on her face that Hermione was doubtful, but she let the conversation die. The pair entered the Great Hall unnoticed by most, with only a few looks and waves and most eyes glazed over them in the crowd. The Head Table looked strangely empty with the exclusion of Professor Umbridge. She usually arrived early and left early, but she had yet to arrive, despite her eager departure from the classroom. Cassy privately considered she might be prepping her office for detention later, scheming for the best line to imprint on her skin for the rest of her life. She was unconcerned, more so than Hermione probably would have liked, but a scar on her hand was not something so terrible. While she would have been mortified years ago for marring her skin, there was something about it being because of the Ministry that Cassy found herself defiantly nonchalant about it.

Harry's scar was not that noticeable anymore, she thought as she watched him enter the hall dressed in scarlet and gold for his practice. If one was not looking then it was barely of any consideration.

'Hey,' said Harry, sliding into the seat opposite.

'Ready for practise? How's Ron? Is he feeling any better?' asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head. 'I passed him on to Fred and George in the common room. He was white as a sheet already and he usually waits until we reach the pitch for that.'

Greetings were given to Neville, Ginny, and Luna when they joined the table minutes later. Although Luna had been told to return to her own table several times in the past few weeks, she stubbornly remained with her friends and when it looked as though Professor Umbridge was about to stand to tell her to move, Professor Flitwick would rush to them instead, pulling the group into conversation that from a distance looked like a reprimand. Luna continued to eat her pudding as they spoke and the conversation only ended when they had all had their fill and the meal was over. He was cheerful and relieved, he admitted, to see Luna with good friends. He would not let it be ruined by unnecessary rules.

However, Professor Umbridge did not look at them as she entered the hall that night. She strode by them, smiling, and took her seat without a second glance.

Cassy cast a wary sideways look to Hermione. She returned it with pursed lips.

'I'll get some bandages,' she muttered.

'Wish me luck,' muttered Cassy. She rose from her seat and grabbed her bag from under the table.

'Where are you going?' asked Harry, breaking from his conversation with Neville.

'To the library,' said Cassy shortly. She needed to get a book for her Charms homework. The plan to have it done tonight was delayed, but she was determined to complete it before she went to bed that night because it was not as though she would have any more free time for the next week as it was.

'I need to get my broom from the common room, so I'll walk with you,' offered Harry, standing also.

There were only a few people lingering around the door of the Great Hall. The entrance hall was empty and the staircases were void of chatting students and prying ears. Cassy stole a glance at Harry. Lately, they had been spending more time together in the evenings. His detentions had ceased and his good mood meant the pair had yet to fight. It was almost back to how things had been before Voldemort was reborn, just silly and light-hearted. The only difference was that Harry had been attempting to put effort into his classes. He did not always manage. Often his attention waned and on more than one occasion Cassy had caught him playing noughts and crosses with Neville instead of making notes, but he was doing remarkably well considering and his grades, although never bad and usually irritatingly high for someone with such low ethic, were benefiting.

A small part of Cassy wondered if he was doing it for her. The first time he had put effort in was after she had mentioned Stephen's excellent grades, how impressed she had been with them. Perhaps she was being conceited, or seeing what she wanted to see, but the idea was impossible to shake.

The two came to a stop at the crossroads of their different destination. With thoughts swirling in her mind, Cassy plucked up the courage she had been trying to find again for weeks.

'Harry,' she called firmly. Her hands were scrunched into fists by her side. 'I have something I have been meaning to tell you for a while now.'

'Now?' he questioned. His head turned towards her, but his body was still angled to leave at first notice.

She frowned. 'If you need to leave then no.'

He shook his head. 'No, sorry. I was just surprised. You could have mentioned it earlier.'

Harry turned towards her, his head tilted to one side.

Cassy faltered.

Her arms were crossed across her head and her eyes were focused on Harry's shoes as she considered how to say what it was she needed to confess. Suddenly, it no longer seemed foolish to stutter and stumble like she had read or seen others do. It was a lot more difficult in person than she had anticipated. 'I…'

'If it's this difficult to say, then maybe you shouldn't tell me,' said Harry suddenly. 'Are you all right though?'

At the second interruption in her second attempt, Cassy felt her resolve crumble entirely. Her shoulders slumped lowly and she tightened her arms around her chest. A pinched smile was on her face as she finally peered up at his face.

'You are probably right. It was just me being stupid. Forget it,' she said quickly and flippantly.

Harry reached out for her arm, but Cassy evaded it.

'I apologise for holding you up. Have a good practice,' she said.

'Are you sure - ?'

'I am fine,' insisted Cassy.

'Right, well, Angelina will skin me if I'm not there soon. I'll speak to you later, okay?' he said. Harry shifted from foot to foot for a moment, his hands hung awkwardly by his sides, unsure of what to do with them.

Cassy nodded her head and strode away quickly in the opposite direction. Once she had rounded the corner, she groaned to herself, throwing her hand over her face. They were cool against her flushed cheeks. She cursed her own stupid decision. What a time and place to try and tell him. Of all moments, she had chosen the one where he needed to leave urgently. Although, it was not as though she had had a lot of choice lately. With the DA meetings and extra work in preparation of OWLs that year, she had not been left alone with Harry for more than a minute at a time before someone else cropped up. It was not as though she particularly felt encouraged to tell him either with Chang staring longingly across the hall at him every meal with her sudden interest in him.

Perhaps it is a sign from Morgana that I should just not bother, thought Cassy bitterly. Perhaps she did not want to hear it because he already knew what she was about to say. Her nose scrunched at such a foul idea. The idea was one that had been building in her mind for a time now though. Despite Cassy having liked to believe she had been very discreet in her feelings, she had begun to suspect otherwise. Neville had realised, oblivious and naïve as he was; Luna too, although Cassy was unsure if Neville had told her or Luna possessed keen eyes to fuel her bizarre philosophies. Then there was Hermione, who Cassy had caught giving her long, calculated looks when she thought she could not see her do so. Her eyes would drift to Harry thoughtfully afterwards and Cassy had few doubts that Hermione too had realised Cassy's feelings. With any luck, it was Harry and Ginny who did not know, being the two Cassy wanted to avoid telling, but she was doubtful of that now.

She twisted the ring on her right hand as she walked. Breathing out heavily, Cassy decided not to try again, at least not for a while.

'Evening, Black,' came a smooth voice.

Cassy lifted her head. Her features rearranged impassively as she turned to Shandy as he passed.

'Shandy,' she greeted.

'Not enjoying the feast?' he asked, stopping several feet from her. Cassy followed suit, half turned towards him.

'I could ask you the same thing,' she said.

'I have places to go and people to see,' he answered easily. He stopped walking and turned to face her.

'Don't we all?' She stopped too.

He smiled and glanced at the floor, before meeting her eyes again.

'I do not understand you,' he admitted. 'You don't quite fit anywhere.'

Cassy said nothing. She merely continued to watch him.

'You drift. You are a Black, yet you befriend Potter. You act like a Slytherin, yet are a Gryffindor. You are clever, yet do not utilize it. You could be popular, yet you remain closed. You are violent, I will not deny that, you have bursts of madness, certainly, foolishness, conceited, strong, vulnerable, and sly. I don't understand,' he revealed, listing the traits off on his fingers. 'Where is it you are trying to belong? It has been bothering me for weeks.'

'You are mistaken if you think I must act like my friends,' she said, coldly. Cassy was tempted to turn and walk away. The humiliation from moments earlier had yet to fade and facing detention was already going to be tedious enough.

'I do not think you could manage it if you tried. You are nothing like Potter, or Longbottom, or that Muggleborn girl – you know, I quite forget her name. You are a Black and it shows, although it's a shame you have to be a _half-blood_. Oh, do not look so annoyed at that. It's what you are, a half-blood. I suppose that's why you would never make the best Slytherin. Imagine what you could be capable of if you had been raised properly like one? You wouldn't have been held back so much by those who view you as less,' he commented thoughtfully. His eyes were curious, rather than malicious, but Cassy was growing irritated by his words anyway. She did not see the point in all this.

'We could be friends, you know, you and I,' he suddenly said.

Cassy had to stop herself snorting. Shaking her head, she stared incredulously. 'No. Not at all.'

'You never said "never",' he remarked and Cassy had praised herself on her tactful wording. Shandy was the type to remember such a strong dismissal, although she almost did not care. She could not see them being allies, let alone friends. She hated him.

'We could be though. You have proven you are strong enough, last year was quite enough, and the reason Malfoy is in the gutter of Slytherin House is because of you too. The rumours of him and a Muggle girl have caused quite a commotion. Some of the older students are enjoying the opportunity to have an advantage after years of him lording his father over them, but you already knew that would happen before you started them.

'It's a shame he does not associate with you any more. Everyone was ever so pleased when they heard. They had been telling him to get rid of you for years,' he drawled, his tone no longer nearly as pleasant. 'It is a pity Alphard died, isn't it?'

'Do not talk about it as if you knew him,' growled Cassy. 'I do not want to hear you use his name so casually!'

Shandy scowled at her. 'I was trying to be nice. You need me.'

Cassy laughed, offended by the ridiculous claim.

'Do you ever listen to yourself?' she hissed. Without realising it, Cassy had drawn her wand from her pocket.

'Still a sore subject is it? Is it because he did not care enough to put you in a good home? He sent you away in the end, to some crack-pot Blood-Traitors,' spat Shandy. His entire demeanour had changed.

'Heard that from Draco, have you? Draco, Draco, Draco! That is all anyone ever says anymore. I am tired of hearing his lies and seeing his smug little face. I am glad he is the bottom rung of his house, I hope his Death Eater parents are disappointed in the sheep of a son they raised,' snarled Cassy, her voice steadily rose louder. 'I live with an Auror and a good one at that. What does your family have? You are the third-born son of a weak new family whose influence depends on the favour of another House.'

'Don't speak of things you know nothing about,' sneered Shandy. His wand was drawn too.

'Why not?' cajoled Cassy. 'You do it all the time about me and my mother.'

'Your mother was frail and mental! There's not much to understand.'

The argument had become too heated. It was escalating too fast.

'Well, that is something we share, isn't it? Weak mothers! Yours could not even fight to stop her husband's affair,' laughed Cassy falsely.

A blue light shot towards her and Cassy deflected it with a curse of her own. It was a step further than she would normally have ventured. She had aimed for where she knew it would hurt, much like he had done to her without the slightest care of what would happen. She was tired of it. She was tired of the stares and the lies. She was sick of hearing 'Draco said' relayed back to her every other day with some sort of knew line in the every growing tale he was spinning. She despised the sight of the pink toad the Ministry had forced on them every day and night, unable to retaliate or disagree. She hated having to tell Tonks she was fine when she was not and she loathed not being able to face anything because she simply did not know where to begin anymore. She had had enough.

'At least I can claim some of my family cared for me. Your mother would not fight for your title as heir,' she continued. A warmth spread from her fingers to her toes, a buzzing began in her chest and for the first time in a while Cassy felt the excitement of adrenalin course through her veins. As she dodged another spell, she thought that she should not be enjoying it so much, insulting another, but when she considered everything Shandy had said and done over the past two years, she almost laughed at the absurdity of feeling remorseful.

'What does it matter if you had family that cared? You never involve them in personal matters, not when it can harm them. That is the most basic Wizarding code!' he snapped back.

'You don't have much of a family to involve, not one that would rise to defend you anyway,' shouted Cassy. She sent him another curse and he sent one back.

It had been popular rumour for a while that Shandy had lost his inheritance to his father's first child. He was a bastard, unmarried and the result of a young affair, the boy was seven-years Shandy's senior. Cassy had not seen a signet ring on his finger at the start of her third-year when they first met either. His next oldest brother, the only by full blood, was ill, confined to his bed for most of his time. The title was passed over him at first, having always been a sickly child. The latest rumour, Astoria had informed her eagerly, was that Shandy's father was still having relations with the eldest boys' mother, it had been in a back column of the _Daily Prophet_ in the last summer.

'At least my mother knows how to survive, she is not a fool. Everyone who cared for you is gone and you are the only one to blame. At least I haven't _killed_ my family,' hissed Shandy.

The room was suddenly far colder. Ice crept through her chest and down into her stomach. It seized her insides with a firm hand and squeezed her heart until it was difficult to breathe. Only silence rung in her ears. Her brain refused to function. She had heard the blame many times within her own head. She had got Alphard killed, she knew she had. She should have given him reason to stay at home, to believe she could take care of herself and that she would do the right thing and hide. She should have made him believe she was capable, but she had not. He had come for her anyway. She took a shaky breath, then another and another. Her hands balled into fists by her side. Her wand was gripped so tightly it might have broken.

Breathing deeply, Shandy let his shoulders slump. His wand lowered to his side and he took a step back. Cassy did not care how his head dropped to one side, or how he almost looked shocked with himself. There was no retracting the fire that had over taken the ice. There was no apology that could stop the trembling in her hands.

'You should not push me so far if you don't want to be hurt,' he muttered.

Cassy saw red.

'_Manumors_!' she roared.

A purple rope spouted from the tip of her wand. Shandy dodged suddenly. He slipped onto the floor, twisting to see the vine crash into the wall. It dethatched itself from the wand and fanned out into branches, thorns three inches long and as thin as pins covered it, helping it attach to the wall where it writhed and spread.

'What is that?' demanded Shandy. 'Black, what is that?'

The vines spread. The limbs moved and curled, dragging itself across the length of the wall and into a heap on the floor. The wall behind it was punctured, holes ripped away and scratches marked deep into the thick stone. It crumbled into dust and great chunks of brick.

Shandy was on his feet.

'Black!' he called again.

Slowly, Cassy turned to him. Her eyes had been fixed on the plant, the _Hand of Death_ as she recalled. The way it turned and twisted was fascinating, alarming, and enthralling, but mostly concerning, because it was clearly making its way across the floor to them, destroying the ancient castle as it went. The illustration had not done it justice. Its skin was almost black, a deep purple shimmered across its barbed surface in light of the flickering candles scattered over the walls. A shriek sounded from somewhere within the mass of limbs, high, but low, as if two voices had echoed at once. It pierced her flesh and rattled through her stilled bones.

What a horrid sound, she thought distantly.

The mirror beside them cracked and crashed under the heavy grip of the creature Cassy had summoned.

'_Bombarda_!' called Shandy.

Cassy was shocked back to life when the creature screamed again, wailing at the small explosion. Its limbs crashed forward, reaching for them both with no discern between the target and the summoner.

Cassy raised her wand. In an instant it was gone. Only deep holes and thin scratches marked the hall now. Broken shards of the mirror lay scattered over the floor, oddly dull.

'Where has it gone? Black, what the _hell_ was that?' snarled Shandy.

'_Reparo_,' muttered Cassy. The frame cracked back into place on the ground and the shards rushed to meet it. With another flick of her wand, it hung itself back on the wall. Several pieces were missing, most likely still trapped within the beast.

'Answer me!' growled Shandy and for the first time, Cassy looked and saw him. She did not just see the one calling her name, but rather took in his image, she took in his white skin and his wild eyes, the way his shoulders were stiff and how his feet were unable to remain in one place for too long.

'I…' Cassy frowned.

'Can't remember? Do you feel light headed, as if you were somewhere else entirely? I suppose your knees are weak and your heart is fast? That's because that was a _Dark_ spell, Black. That creature, whatever the hell it was, used some of your life energy to summon and now your body is paying the price. It can send you into shock, or kill you outright, that is why it is Dark!' he stated sharply, his tone was one that would be used on a reckless child who had not considered the consequence of their actions. Cassy supposed she had not. She could not recall thinking much about it at all.

I did not mean to… I would never… she thought disjointedly.

Bile rose in her throat. Whatever she thought she would or would not do no longer mattered. What mattered was that she had and she almost killed them both for it. If Shandy had not dodged, she would have killed him instantly, but that was not what she wanted, it was never what she wanted, so why that spell would be the one on the tip of her tongue she could not imagine. She knew a hundred spells to make someone reconsider crossing her, two or three times that, in fact, yet she had not said any of those.

The rage that had built within her since September 1st was gone. It had been allowed to fester and grow within her chest, she had not faced it at all and this was the consequence of it. It was the result of her denial at her care for the Malfoys, for her dismissal of the want to defend her mother, and for Professor Umbridge's unbearable ways. She had lost her temper and she had almost lost her life for it.

'Just what have you been doing, Black?' he asked softly, the wariness in his tone not even disguised.

Cassy's face shifted suddenly. She turned to him with darkened eyes and her features set stonily. For a moment, she watched Shandy carefully as he halted again at the intensity of her gaze. Slowly, she parted her lips, choosing her words carefully, she said, 'Do not push me, Benjamin Shandy. Do not speak ill of my family, nor my friends, nor even myself, if you wish for a simple remainder of your school career. The Dark Arts are not my expertise, but I will only bend so far before I break and I would rather not have a repeat of that. Understood?'

Those books were fine, they were not the worst. They were ones she had skimmed over and flicked through for research. She never learnt how to cast them, she was certain of it. She had never tried to learn. Yet, the word had left her mouth somehow, instinctively maybe, just as the calculated sentence had trailed from her lips just then like a second nature. It was more confident that she felt; it almost made it sound as though she knew what she had been doing, but Shandy would know that was a lie. Her face had given it away in the few seconds she had reeled back in shock at her own hands. She meant what she had said though. If he tried to taunt her like that again, she would not curse him, but she would be sure to think of a hundred ways to make his life just as painful as hers.

Sharply, Cassy shook her trembling hands. She flexed them tightly into fists and when she relaxed them again, they were still and controlled. She raised her wand to the walls and floors. The _Reparo_ did nothing for a moment, until the ground and walls slowly began to creak and grind softly as the brick careful started to turn in on itself, revealing clear, solid blocks once more.

'Where do you think it went?' asked Shandy.

'Wherever banished items go in this place,' breathed Cassy. She dreaded to think. She could hardly think, her mind was still distorted, as if running a second behind as it was. With a tired expression she asked, 'Why do you taunt me, Shandy? You know my temper is short.'

He was silent for a minute. 'I do not understand you. You are a bundle of contradictions.'

She could see that; she knew it, but to think someone would drive her to the brink of madness for a mere chance of figuring her out was absurd. It had all gone too far and neither knew what to do next.

'What is this?' came a voice from behind them.

Both the students whipped around, their wands shoved deep within their pockets instantly. Cassy almost slipped when she turned, the ground shifted with her and a ringing sounded through her skull, but she steadied herself with a few quick blinks and a well-placed step backwards. When she locked eyes with the owner of the voice her heart sunk even lower, although she had not thought it possible.

Shandy straightened up. 'Good evening, Professor Snape.'

* * *

**Oh my, Cassy, what have you done?**

**I think it is Snape who at some point mentions that Dark Magic is absorbing and an easy trap to fall into. I imagine it to be the type of magic that will always be in the back of one's mind, ready to be used without conscious thought unless given proper distinction from everyday life. **

**The Black family are a bit notorious for their tempers, so while Cassy usually collects herself well, when she snaps, she **_**snaps**_**. No one can handle so much emotion without having a breakdown, only Cassy's doesn't appear to be tears.**

**As promised, this is a two part update, so very shortly the next chapter will be uploaded to see how it unfolds. **

**I hope you enjoy.**

**Thanks!**


	17. Expulsions and explanations

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XVII: Expulsions and explanations**

There was nothing Cassy could think to say to defend herself. Her breath was still short. Shandy had barely controlled his own, yet he was doing a far better job of schooling his features than Cassy was. She flexed her hands, shaking away the trembling. The magnitude of what almost happened was still settling within her blurred mind, but she pushed it away to the depths where she could deal with it later. She steeled herself as the dark stare of Professor Snape passed over her.

He stood in front of his desk, having marched the pair of them straight to the Dungeons. Only the barest look to the cracked mirror and punctured floor was needed for him to make up his mind. His hands were folded in front of him tightly.

'I don't know what you two thought you were doing, but I have no doubt that at least a dozen school rules and maybe some _laws_ were broken minutes ago,' he drawled, his voice firm. He looked between them both equally. 'What happened?'

Neither spoke. Despite Cassy steadying herself for Shandy to reveal everything, he did not.

'What happened?' asked Professor Snape again.

Once more, neither of them spoke.

'Fine. It is not necessary.' Professor Snape stood and walked to the other side of his desk. He pulled out a book, tattered and beaten, as if well used and not well cared for. It was slapped on the table before Cassy had a chance to read the cover. She could not dare to glance down at it either, for Professor Snape leant over the table, his hand slammed down on either side.

For a moment, only the faint crackling of the log fire echoed to the high stone ceiling. No footsteps sounded outside of the office, most people still attending the luscious Halloween Feast. There was no chatter or laughter to detract from the tenseness between the three occupants, or a distraction from the heaviness of their Potion Master's narrowed gaze.

Cassy swayed. The weakness in her limbs increasing tenfold each moment she was forced to stand.

His eyes met hers suddenly.

Shut down, she thought quickly, do not let him in.

As if her magic responded to her internal plea, there was a definite shift in her mind. For a second, she feared it was Professor Snape rummaging in her thoughts, but he looked away too quickly and the feeling remained. She was not certain if her weak defences had done much good, or if he had even been trying to read her mind at all.

'Dark magic poisons the mind,' he said lowly. 'It is a spiral in which witches and wizards a hundred times more skilled and more powerful than either of you have fallen into its grasp unable to stand again. Whoever cast it need be careful, that he or she is not reading books they should not be. Not all books are friendly or benign. Some have… motives.'

Regardless of his neutral blame, Professor Snape had stared at Cassy through the entire explanation.

'You will both serve detentions with me for the next fortnight. Now, be gone,' he concluded swiftly.

Cassy did not move. She called, 'Professor.'

'It is non-negotiable, Black,' he snapped.

'I have detention with Professor Umbridge every evening for the next week,' she continued.

Professor Snape turned to her with a single raised eyebrow. 'Well then, I suppose you will have to give up your lunch hour.' He swept back around and began to sift through papers on the cabinet behind his desk.

Shandy had already slipped from the room and Cassy silently did the same, feeling remarkably lucky for such a light punishment. She had expected to be expelled, dragged to the Headmaster's office and made a show of at least, but Professor Snape had been oddly understanding, if he could ever be so. The shock had worn away somewhere along the walk and the ache in her skull lessened. Her hands still felt weak and the longer she walked the more she felt as though she would stumble and fall as it became more difficult to coordinate her limbs. The weight in her stomach told her Neville had been right, she should not dabble in the pages of books found in a house out to kill her. She had not considered the books were poisoned and part of her still did not think it so; it was probable, as much as she loathed to admit it, that she had just been weak. A moment of weakness she could not allow again.

She stumbled into one of the upper-level lavatories. Her pale hands gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles white. Shaking, her arms struggled to support her weight, but they did so anyway because the only alternative was that she dropped to the floor. A great clatter would sound, bringing feeling back into her distant limbs as her knees would burn with pain, but she was stronger than that and remained determined to stand.

The tap was twisted on with a great struggle. Cool water rushed from it, splattering up the side of the porcelain basin. The low rumbling settled her nerves, finally calming her thoughts as she paused to just listen. Gingerly, her forehead pressed against the biting chill of the mirror in front. Blue-eyes closed.

For a moment, Cassy remained there. It was not until her legs began to feel as though they might hold their own weight again that she pushed away. From a stark white to a blotchy red, her hands were rinsed under the water. Colour returned as she slowly twisted her hands around and round; it was as if the water could wash away what her hands had caused, as though they could erase the evidence that for a moment, she very much lived up to the Black name. Water spilt over her cupped hands. It pooled and dripped over her angled face, speckling her shirt and returning to the wet sink in small droplets. For a moment, her hands lingered on her cheeks, before she pushed them up and into her hair, flattening the flyaway strands that had come loose from her bun during the day.

She breathed in deeply, then out slowly. As the horror faded, she knew that it was not such a catastrophe. Disaster had been averted and she had learnt her lesson. No one had been injured and she was not expelled, so there was no point further dwelling on the matter.

A small watch on a long chain emerged from beneath her collar. With a huff, Cassy began to make her way to her detention with Professor Umbridge. Noisy laughter and screeches of scares and spooks continued to echo up from the Great Hall as the feast continued late into the early evening. The sleeves of her robe and her skirt were smoothed quickly, before with a face of contempt Cassy knocked loudly three times of the office door.

'Come in,' called a cheerful voice from within.

Smoothly, Cassy pushed the door open.

'Miss Black,' greeted Professor Umbridge. 'You arrive with not a second to spare.'

Cassy said nothing and instead eyed the small writing desk set in the middle of the room. A piece of parchment was already laid out and a black quill was beside it.

'Do take a seat. Now, you do know why you are here, yes?' said Professor Umbridge.

'Yes, Professor,' answered Cassy calmly.

'And why is that?'

'I disrespected you,' said Cassy.

'And what else?'

Cassy was quiet for a moment, before she replied, 'I disrespected my heritage.'

Her voice was controlled and not nearly as sarcastic as she would have wanted it to be if she had been speaking to anyone else. As it was, Professor Umbridge beamed and smiled. She nodded down at the desk. Cassy picked up the black quill.

'I want you to write lines for me, dear,' she said. 'This way, you will never have a lapse of judgement quite like it again. It must be difficult to hear so many conflicting opinions at such a young age, especially with a background like your own. I worked with Druella Black for a time when I was young, charming woman.'

Cassy internally rolled her eyes. Druella Black was Narcissa's mother and had made it clear on more than one occasion that Cassy was mere filth in her life. Charming was the last word to come to mind when thinking of her.

'What I want you to write is: "I will respect my heritage". One hundred times to begin with and we will see from there,' smiled Professor Umbridge.

Critically, Cassy looked down at the paper. In her best handwriting – determined that if she were to be scarred for life she would rather it at least be presentable – she wrote out the line again and again. It stung and burnt as the curling letters etched their way through her skin and into her flesh. One-hundred times was not enough. Another two-hundred was demanded, the sting made it difficult to keep up the speed she had begun with and it was not until three hours after she had arrived that she was allowed to leave again.

Cassy wandered slowly through the halls. She was in no rush to return to the common room, or explained what had happened before, although she knew she should. When she turned the next corner, she halted. In front of her, dressed in the full red and gold of the Gryffindor Quidditch kit, stood Harry. His broom was not with him, but his goggles hung around his neck and his gloves were held in one hand.

'Hey,' he greeted.

'What are you doing here?' she asked curiously.

'I want to talk,' he nodded his head in another direction and Cassy followed with interest. Out from his pocket, he pulled the Marauder's Map and replaced the space with his gloves. After rummaging through the folds of parchment for a moment, Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her down one of the next halls. Her heart beat madly.

She almost went to tell him she could walk by herself, but thought better of it. She would be lying to say she minded.

Eventually after trekking down several silent halls, they halted. Harry slumped down against the wall and pulled Cassy with him. The map was laid flat on the floor in front of him. He released her hand, only to grab it again with his one that read 'I must not tell lies' scarred across the back. Critically, he inspected her hand, gingerly touching the raised, pink skin and fine lines of 'I will respect my heritage'.

'How many more detentions do you have?' he asked.

'Six,' she replied. 'Plus two weeks from Professor Snape.'

She waved her free hand when his eyebrows rose.

'You were being strange earlier. Why was that?' he questioned casually.

Cassy inwardly cringed. 'I'm sorry.'

'There's no need to apologise for it,' chuckled Harry in surprise, but Cassy shook her head.

'Not just for that, but for everything. You apologised to me for what you said, yet I never did the same to you. I do owe you an apology. I have not been a very good friend this term,' she argued. She leant her head back against the wall and inclined it to Harry just enough to keep eye contact.

Harry frowned. 'That's not true.'

'It is. I am not trying to make excuses for myself, but I have found it… extraordinarily difficult this year so far to deal with everything. I fear it has made me neglect what is important. I know that I get angry and I say what I don't mean, I wear my heart protected and do not always tell you what I think, but _never_ think for a moment that I do not support you,' she continued, imploringly.

She scowled when Harry rolled his eyes.

'Stop talking like you're in court. You don't need to be so serious about it,' he snorted. 'I don't want to hear your apologies. I'm here because we never get to talk and I feel like we're going in two different directions most of the time. You're the best friend I have – don't tell the others that though. We never just… _talk_ anymore.'

Cassy was quiet for a long time, before she smiled.

'You are popular once again, it is hard to find the space,' she drawled.

He rolled his eyes again. 'I'm infamous, there's a difference.'

Cassy turned her head to stare at the wall opposite with a half-smile on her face. 'I need to get out of my own head for a bit anyway.'

'What's wrong? Besides the obvious,' asked Harry.

Cassy's expression flattened and she sighed lowly.

'All right, well start with the obvious then,' he said.

Cassy picked at her tights idly. In the corner of her eyes, Cassy was aware that Harry was watching her for some sort of a response. It had seemed like a great idea to begin talking, but when it came to doing so, Cassy was unsure she wanted to, or even knew where to begin if she was to start at all.

'Okay, I'll start,' said Harry. There was a slight pause, before he said, 'I don't think you've dealt with what happened at the end of last year.'

Blunt, thought Cassy. She flinched as he said it, but nodded none the less.

'I think you have had too much going on this summer that you haven't had time to sort anything through with yourself. I don't think you've allowed yourself to grieve. You've been so wrapped up in moving homes and the Order… me, then school work, Umbridge and the DA, that I don't think you have allowed yourself time to just _be_,' he continued thoughtfully, his tone somewhat reluctant.

A heavy silence rang between them for what was in reality just a few seconds, but to Harry it felt like a lifetime. Cassy was not looking at him, her eyes still fixed blankly on the wall in front and she allowed no sign to show that she had heard him, let alone agreed with what he had said. There came a point that a small voice in the back of his mind advocated strongly, that he did not care if she was angry with him for his words. It was better she be angry and to realise she needed something more, than to see the joy fade from her face whenever she thought no one was looking, or hear the darkened tones in her voice when confronted with family and propriety. Harry wanted her to wear the kind of grin she did when she was up to something, when she revealed all of her straight, white teeth and her eyes narrowed dangerously with a fierce glint in them that made everyone else instantly wary and made him laugh loudly in anticipation. He wanted her to be up all night to talk about nonsense, this, that, and everything else because she wanted to, not because she could no longer sleep. He wanted to see her laugh; he wanted to see her happy. So tackling the issue bluntly was all he could think to do, for he had never considered himself gifted with words as she was.

'You never talk of Alphard,' he added softly.

Cassy sighed, her lips pursed. She did not want to talk about that at all. There was a very good reason she did not speak of him and it was because each time she thought of him it had ached. Less and less each day, but it had been so long since she had laughed about something he said or recalled what he had done that she had become silent out of habit.

'My patronas memory is of him. It was when I was six or seven, I cannot remember exactly, but some children had been bullying me because I did not have parents, that they did not want me and that's why they were gone. Alphard sat me down after he saw me trying my best not to cry after the boys were long gone. He said that he had never been ashamed of me and that despite not being my father, he loved me all the same… it sounds pathetic, but it meant a lot, especially given the trouble I had last year with the _Prophet_,' confided Cassy quietly. Thumping increased in her chest. Her cheeks flushed and she could not look at him at all in embarrassment. 'I want to talk about him and sometimes it is on the tip of my tongue, but it leaves a sour taste. I cannot stand the pity people look at me with when something goes wrong lately. I appreciate their concern, really, I do, however I do not want them looking at me as though I am about to break. I know I have not been the best, but I am not so fragile that I need a watchful eye. If anything, it makes me feel worse.'

Her mouth had gone dry. Despite her steady words, her tone was meek. More than her honesty, she loathed how she could not admit her feelings confidently. It was what it was and Harry was the last person she felt she should have an issue being completely truthful with, but the memory of his dismissal earlier when she had tried to confess rose in the back of her mind, sending more fluttering fingertips across her stomach and up to grip her heart.

Harry's left hand moved from his side to her shoulder and he pulled her in for a sideways hug.

'He would want you to be happy, you know. He loved you and you should be able to remember him happily,' he said.

'I do,' said Cassy. Her head turned towards him again and she moved away from his side. 'For a time I could not even think of him, certainly during summer, but I know he is gone. He was not perfect, too lax to install proper discipline and yet keen to raise me as a proper Black, not always the one I wanted to be… of course, he supported me regardless and loved that I was in Gryffindor, but my clothes, my behaviour, my language, and my skills were all Black family expectations, even when I hated them. Alphard never socialised for pleasure, so neither did I. I think that is part of the problem I have, really.' It felt strange of criticise Alphard, horrid, even, to talk ill of him in any way, even so minor, but it was something she had long since noted. 'I was thinking, actually, that I might speak to my father at Christmas, ask him about Alphard and my mother.'

Since the rumour had first began about her mother's death, Cassy had realised the thirst inside her to know more about her. Alphard had known barely anything, or at least told her so. The only one able to shed any light on it was Sirius, but Cassy was not sure how to approach it, or if he would even want to share with her.

'That's a good idea, but if it is not that that is bothering you, what is?' he asked carefully.

Cassy pursed her lips, disapproving of how easily Harry seemed to be able to read her mood.

'Draco,' she eventually sighed. 'I do not know what to do with him. It is hard not to consider him family when we spent the last fourteen years together, but what he has done is difficult to ignore. All I hear is what he says, the laughs at the newest lie and the smugness on the Slytherins' faces as they think they have me pinned. I hate him sometimes, truly. I cannot stand to hear them speak of my mother as if they knew her. They speak as if she deserved what happened to her, as if it is all black and white. Draco's given them that power to hold it above me, yet I cannot… I don't want him to become a Death Eater, Harry, not my cousin.'

'I think you give him too much credit. He's not a good person, Cassy, there is nothing you can do to change that,' he said.

However, that was precisely the dilemma Cassy faced in her mind every time she set eyes on him. If he was not yet a Death Eater, she still had means to ensure he did not become one. Yet, faced with their current relationship and the fact the two could not even talk to one another were most likely major flaws in her ideals. Once a Death Eater always a Death Eater; there was no returning to normal, or backing away once one had been marked. Somehow, that still did not sit right with her.

'Perhaps you are right,' she muttered.

'Malfoy can shove off, anyway. I can't believe anyone still listens to him,' mumbled Harry.

Cassy huffed a laugh.

The map was still blank besides two sets of footprints in the corridor they occupied. No other tiny nametags were even on the same floor as them, although Filch was three above, most likely midway through his nightly rounds. Curfew had begun an hour ago for most years. A soft snore sounded from down the hall as one of the portraits drifted to sleep and the lamps that lined the high walls were slowly dimming to a faint orange as the castle readied itself for the night. Cassy rummaged in her bag for her wand and lit the end with her left hand. The white light startled the portrait closest and sent the animals tumbling out of their frame and into their neighbours. A chain of screeches and cries followed as the shock of rampaging cattle went from frame to frame.

Cassy and Harry laughed loudly. The portraits cursed and muttered to themselves.

'Why do you have detention with Snape?' asked Harry suddenly.

Cassy cringed and Harry lifted an eyebrow.

'Well, I was talking to Shandy and I was already on edge from having two lesson inspections with that _hag_ already - ' Harry chortled, 'and he mentioned Malfoy one too many times and I lost my temper. I insulted his mother and he tried to hex me, I retaliated and he told me that I had got Alphard killed. He said it was my fault.'

Harry hissed. 'What a bas-'

'It does not matter what he said really, because I tried to curse him. I mean, really curse him,' interjected Cassy.

'But he tried to curse you first,' defended Harry hotly.

'He tried to _hex_ me, I think anyway, it did not have an incantation. I would have killed him though, if it had hit him. Not immediately, but it would have killed him none the less.'

She stared, her face severe. His green-eyes had widened in shock, unblinking as he waited for something else, something more, perhaps a denial or a reasoning for it, but nothing more came. Cassy looked down at her lap.

'Well, he's not dead, is he?' asked Harry. 'It's fine. It was a mistake.'

'_Harry,_' began Cassy. He was always offering her comfort against her will, particularly when she did not deserve it, she knew.

'No, he's fine and you know not to use whatever it was you did again. You're a good person, I'm not worried you're suddenly going to join Voldemort and try and kill me over one spell. Although, I am surprised you're not expelled if Snape caught you,' he admitted.

Cassy scoffed. 'You and me both.' She closed her eyes and turned her head to the ceiling. Slowly opening them again, she let a soft sigh escape from her parted lips. 'I have become soft.'

'You're still one of the toughest people I know,' said Harry, pushing her shoulder slightly in the same way she always did to him; a light-hearted push to let her know he thought she was being ridiculous. 'You put up with a lot.'

She would always bend before she broke, but Cassy had always hoped she could deal with more pressure than what had happened. Loss of her father figure, the background fear for her real father locked away in a makeshift prison, the loss of her small childhood family through her cousins, the lies and tales spread through the school, the constant questions and remarks, Professor Umbridge's insufferable presence and her enraging treatment of Harry, the added school work of her OWL exams, helping to run an underground organisation whose only goal was to keep them alive; when Cassy thought of it all, she wondered if she had not done so badly after all, to only lose her temper once truly.

There was a slight pause, then Harry asked, 'Are you going to stop reading those books now then?'

'For now. I think there are better ways to learn. I thought about asking Moody at Christmas if he can recommend me anything. He knows a lot, so he has to know a book or two that will not send me mad. I need to learn to not get so angry, to be quite honest. It would not have been a problem then.'

Despite what Professor Snape had suggested, Cassy knew it had less to do with the dark influence of the book and more to do with her own temper. Somewhere from the depths of her mind she had pulled out a spell that would make Shandy hurt without thinking anything more of it. It was vile and she certainly did not deserve Harry's calm understanding, but he continued to look at her as he always did without any sort of fear or disgust.

'How are you, anyway?' she asked.

'Fine,' he shrugged. 'I'll be better when this Quidditch match is done. Angelina might go a bit easier on our training. We were there for four hours and she wanted us there longer, but Katie walked off the pitch when it got to ten o'clock. I'm still amazed Umbridge let us regroup.'

'I hate her,' muttered Cassy.

'I hate her more,' said Harry.

'Arguable,' she retaliated.

'No,' Harry laughed, 'I know I do. Of everybody I have ever met, I hate her most… I hate this year.'

Cassy patted his knee.

'Of all the years we have had, this is shaping up to be the worst,' she agreed.

Harry was silent for a moment. 'We should just leave. Pack our bags and go.'

'Where would we go exactly?' asked Cassy playfully.

'Anywhere. It doesn't matter. We can figure it out and keep each other safe so no one can follow us. No one will know where we've gone,' he said with a wistful smile.

'I'm not sure I can survive without magic for another year,' laughed Cassy.

Harry waved his hand flippantly. 'We'll fake some documents before we leave. We'll get some Muggle qualifications and pretend to have some skills. I doubt it will take you long to catch up to A-Level standards, knowing you. You can become a lecturer at a good university and I'll be something boring, probably. I'll work in a shop or something.'

'A policeman,' offered Cassy. 'You need a bit of excitement in your life, look at the past five years. If you cannot be an Auror, then you will have to be a policeman.'

Harry grinned.

'We would need different names,' she said thoughtfully.

The image of their quaint Muggle life began to take shape easily as they continued to talk. Vaults would be emptied and bags packed for the trek down to England from the Scottish mountains. They would live in a little, inconspicuous terrace house for a few years with pretend parents they could muster from acquired products before their departure; they agreed their mutual black-hair was enough to pass as a arguable similarity to be siblings. They would have a dog that Cassy was adamant Harry could not name, and they would study and have jobs until Cassy came of age to speed the process up. Laughter echoed noisily down the halls. Several hisses of unhappy portraits followed them back, yet neither cared. The story became more elaborate as they tried to think of a way they would break the news to Sirius several years later and it never ended in anything other than a severe hexing and lots of swearing on his part. He would never forgive them.

'He'd kill us,' concluded Harry grimly as Cassy laughed.

'We might have to take him with us,' she said and Harry beamed.

'It would get him out of the house and get us some magic for a year,' he agreed eagerly.

'I still want a dog though. My father does not count.'

Harry snorted.

'What's all that noise? Oy! What's that light?'

Cassy and Harry both froze. They had been so enthralled by their conversation, neither of them had bothered to check the map. Filch's gruff voice bellowed down the hall to them. A faint orange light of his lantern flickered and there was a distinct uneven thumping of feet that could only mean Filch was running towards them.

Harry swore under his breath and grabbed the map roughly. Cassy hauled herself to her feet, extinguished her wand as she giggled and the two broke out into a manic run back to the common room. As they chortled down the long, dark corridor, Cassy could not help but think that perhaps this was enough – to be his best-friend and to be satisfied with that. Harry being happy made her happy, so despite her own feelings, she knew it was time to stop pining and let what will be, be, even if that happened not to involve her.

* * *

**Everyone is on the same page now and Cassy will start to cheer up a little bit. This is actually one of the first scenes I had planned for the story before I even began to write the first year. It was second to only Alphard's death. It's not as dramatic as it was originally, but that's because as the characters developed, I felt it did not need to be. The two just had a normal conversation about it, a little bit of sadness and then they moved on with a better understanding.**

**I personally take the opinion that if you really care for someone, you want them to be happy no matter what, even if that means not with you. I'm not saying that Cassy is giving up on Harry, but we will see a shift in attitude as she decides not to focus too much on what she wants and rather what she has, as to match the change in attitude (or renewal of a past attitude) which the event has caused. She is not one for romance on the surface, perhaps not even that deep down, but somehow she gathered feelings for the messy-haired fool and as much as she might want to pursue it, she cares too much to push and make him unhappy.**

**It is quite hard, I find, to write complex emotions. Cassy has so many things leading to the way she feels that I hope I made them clear. The plot finally shifts forwards. Seventeen chapters and it is only now October 31****st****. Perhaps it is time to pick up the pace!**

**Anyway, I got this out sooner than expected because my work actually seems to be on schedule (I'm a little bit behind, but small victories). **

**Let me know what you think.**

**Thanks! **


	18. Hagrid

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XVIII: Hagrid**

There was something peculiar, Cassy found, in talking to Harry that she rarely found with anyone else. It was almost impossible not to take his advice; so when he told her to open up more, she had, and when he told her to think about how lucky she was to have even met Alphard, let alone have him for fourteen-years, she did that too. Despite waking up at six the next morning, Cassy felt more alert and alive than she had in a long time. She did not get up and read, or begin her day as she always did, but rather she lay there and thought over the memories of the very man she had avoided mentioning for so many months. He had never left her thoughts, but it was the first time Cassy had stopped and simply considered her memories for what they were.

Coolly confident and self-assured was what Cassy would have described herself to be at eleven-years-old. There was not a point in time she could pin to say when insecurities had begun to creep in, let alone take over. Slowly, she realised many things, things that did not match up at all. Her confidence was misplaced, her anger too spontaneous, her friends were too distant, and her mind was too cautious. It had been too long since she had tried, really tried, to better herself as she had always done.

Her apparent hobby of Occulmency was half-hearted at best. She would wager that if she had put as much effort into it as she normally would have she would have been certain she had blocked Professor Snape's probing mind the night before. However, she had the barest flicker of feeling in her mind instead and was no closer to learning Legitimacy than she had been at five-years-old. She was not herself at all. She needed to get her mind into gear.

She needed to bring her sinking ship back to the shore.

Detention with Professor Snape was arduous. She scrubbed cauldrons for an hour, her hands red raw and aching by the time she had finished. Her hand stung where the fresh letters etched into the back of her skin had been forced to bend and break. They threatened to bleed, but were not yet deep enough to do so. Beside her, Shandy worked. He scrubbed with as much effort as she was, to her surprise. It was even more shocking that he had not confessed it had been her to curse him, but the punishment was weak by any means and he was surely to be in trouble for aggravating her so thoroughly anyway. Malfoy was praised because he was Professor Snape's Godson; she could not even begin to consider how he would treat his other students because they kept to themselves as a rule and Cassy had scarcely seen a Slytherin in trouble. Shandy did not look at her and nor she at him.

Beyond the initial instructions, there was no conversation between the three occupants. Instead, Professor Snape marked papers silently, only the furious scrubbing of the brush against iron, or the occasional turn of a page filled the room.

When she was dismissed, her cheeks flushed from the low groaning of her stomach, Cassy finally itched her hand manically. She was careful not to pull at the split skin, but the irritation that she had pushed aside for an hour already was unbearable. Once she reached the Great Hall, she met with Harry, Neville, and Hermione to head to Charms. Neville handed her a roll he had snatched from the table and she picked it apart on the way as he promised to get her another next time too. Neither he nor Hermione asked where she had been. Harry had most likely filled them in in her absence and Cassy was relieved that no one had made a commotion over it, although she was certain neither quite understood how it had got to that point to begin with.

Even though there had been several points in the day where Cassy was certain Hermione was about to mention the incident, she did not and instead trailed onto asking mundane questions, such as being passed the salt, or if Cassy had seen her book. There was a distinct look in Hermione's eyes that Cassy had long since identified as concern, but the other was determined not to let it show any further. She did not reprimand her and it was not until Harry cornered Cassy later that afternoon that she understood why.

'I didn't tell them exactly what happened,' he admitted. 'I just said you got caught in a fight with Shandy. I didn't know how much you would appreciate me saying.'

Cassy let out a small hum and thanked him. With no harm done, neither saw the point in admitting how far the fight had gone. She would one day, but with her temper still higher than it should be and with her next detention only a matter of minutes away, there was really no benefit in being that honest right then.

Cheekily, and somewhat lowly, Cassy had found the perfect way to buffer the torrent of questions Neville, Hermione, and Ginny were ready to fire at her at eleven that night after Professor Umbridge's detention. Before Hermione could say anything, Cassy had moved her left hand down to cradle her bleeding right, and Hermione's instincts had quelled her anger just enough to retreat for a salve and bandages.

Neville's lips were curled downwards. He asked her why she did not tell them of the argument and Cassy shook her head.

'It's fine. I just have a few detentions,' she said. She brushed off Ginny's eager queries. It was barely a duel, she maintained, it was just a squabble. Perhaps the lie came too easily to her lips, but it was perhaps because it was not really a lie at all that she found herself smiling through it. No one had been hurt, Harry was right, and she would certainly never do it again, at least not so unreasonably or on someone so petty.

It was not until late that evening, when Harry and Hermione had gone to bed and Ginny had once again sneaked out at the stroke of midnight to meet her boyfriend, that Cassy knew whatever it was on Neville's mind he was unwilling to let it go. He had glanced at her continuously since lunch and grinned whenever she caught his eye. Bemused, she had quickly blocked out the thought and in turn ignored his stares well into the evening. Her attention remained on the homework she was checking for Ginny, her wand twirled absently in the other hand and Crookshanks had made himself at home precariously balanced on her outstretched legs.

Yet, none of that seemed to deter Neville.

'You told him, didn't you?' he teased.

'Told who what?' replied Cassy distantly as she corrected a misspelling.

'Harry!' coaxed Neville gleefully.

'Told Harry what?' she muttered back. Ginny and Ron both never crossed the 't'.

'That you like him, of course!'

'Like who – ?' Cassy paused. Slowly, she turned to him with a very flat expression fixed firmly to her face. 'Excuse me?'

Neville bobbed in his seat, obviously overjoyed at the prospect. 'Well, you've certainly been a lot more cheerful today! He went to find you yesterday, so something good must have happened!'

Cassy squinted. 'Not at all. Sorry to burst your bubble, but Harry and I are just friends. He has no interest in me that way anyway.'

He deflated with a small 'oh' and sank back into his seat. Then, 'When are you going to tell him?'

'_Neville_.'

'Well! You can't just not. It's been ages now,' he said with a cheeky smile.

Cassy threw a cushion at him. 'I suppose you are the Master of Relationships now?'

'No,' he shrugged, 'but you're the one who is supposed to be calm and fearless. I know I'm useless.'

'You are not useless, Neville. You just need a bit of confidence. Magic responds to it, you know that.' She gave him a pointed stare, but he merely shrugged again.

'Try telling me that next DA meeting.'

Cassy returned to the paper in front of her. She needed to find him some good motivation, that was all.

'So when are you going to tell him?'

Cassy through down the quill.

'Neville, no!'

* * *

With a short note at breakfast to concede that Cassy would have to make up for the day off on Friday instead, detention the next day with Professor Snape was cancelled. Despite her concern, she would have to miss Harry and Ron's match, even the Head of Slytherin was not as unyielding as to miss his own House's first Quidditch game of the season.

As she eyed Ron warily, Cassy was not so certain she even wanted to watch the match anymore. Although always pale, Ron's face had lost all colour and even his freckles seem to fade to a stark white as he slumped at the table not far from her. Harry shuffled down to speak to him, but Ron did not seem to be listening at all. He was all ready dressed in his kit. His broom had been quickly shoved under the table, out of sight, as if that alone was what had caught the hall's attention.

'He looks like he might keel over,' mumbled Neville into his porridge.

'He looks even worse than Harry did before his tournament,' added Cassy.

Harry, having heard the pair muttering, turned to them. His pointed stare fell into more of a grimace as even he could not deny Ron's dire appearance. When Neville shrugged unhelpfully in response, Harry turned his attention determinedly to the slumped body once again.

'You must eat something,' insisted Harry. 'Trust me, it won't help you if you don't.'

With one eye on her brother, Ginny leant forward across the table to Cassy and Neville. She jerked her head between them and they turned to the Slytherin table behind. Immediately noticeable was the shining gold against the silver and green House scarves they had donned for the match. The badges were crowns, they shimmered in the early daylight and where just large enough that they could be read from such a distance.

'_Weasley is our King_' was etched onto the surface of each and every one, quoting their newest taunt.

A majority of them had a badge on their chests. Each shining, but one in particular looked as though it had been recently polished and kept with the upmost care. A pearly white smile split across his face as he flashed the badge at his friends and they cackled loudly, regardless of having their own. Despite the new understanding Cassy had of herself, she still had unadulterated loathing at the sight of Malfoy's face.

Neville and Hermione visibly winced.

'Fred and George said that he managed to save spectacularly last practise, all he needs to do is do it in a real match and he'll be set for the rest of the season. His problem is nerves,' said Ginny as she openly scowled at the Slytherins. Many of them had turned their heads, eyeing the scarlet-clad table for signs of flaming-red-hair. When the prying eyes met Ginny's, they flashed their badges at her, but the threat of her wand very visible on the table in front made many think twice before jeering a second time.

Hermione winced again.

'What's wrong?' asked Neville.

She shifted and pressed her lips thinly together. Hushed, she said, 'I heard Ron telling Harry that it was a fluke yesterday. Apparently, he slipped off his broom when no one was looking and accidentally kicked the Quaffle away.'

Everyone deflated. Suddenly, the great yellow lion hat that sat on Luna's head opened its massive jaws and let out a spectacular roar. Only the first and second-years bothered to jump and turn in surprise. The rest of the school had long since become accustomed to the bizarre headwear she insisted on donning each and every match Gryffindor played that was not against Ravenclaw.

'I hope Gryffindor wins,' said Luna airily, as if not having heard their whispers at all.

'With the Slytherins wearing badges like that we have no choice but to win,' grumbled Ginny.

The taunting echoed down the hall with mocking catcalls and whistles as the Gryffindor Quidditch team rose to ready themselves. Fred and George sneered at anyone who eyed their brother too long, while Harry focused on hauling Ron from the room as discreetly as possible, one hand on his arm and his other holding both their brooms. Johnson kept her head high as she passed the Slytherin captain, but Cassy could not help but notice that even she seemed resigned to defeat with the slight drag in her usual confident strut.

Chants and whistles begun again as soon as the remaining students of all four houses piled into the grounds. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students filled the stands somewhat disinterestedly. It had been a long time since anyone had come to watch a match that was so certainly decided before it had even begun. In the mass of Slytherins on the opposite side of the stands – Professor Sprout had not let the two houses occupy the same side in fear of a fight breaking out mid-match, Cassy could see Zambini and Daphne Greengrass. Parkinson stood by to one side with Tracy Davies and Millicent Bulstrode, but the other fifth-year students seemed to be lacking somewhat.

'Apparently,' began Cassy as she and her friends piled into the middle rows of the stands, 'Grabbe and Goyle have been made the new Slytherin Beaters.'

'Who did you hear that from?' asked Ginny in surprise.

'Astoria,' said Cassy.

'I still don't quite understand your friendship with her,' said Hermione, frowning. 'Where did it come from? How did you even meet? She's two years younger than us.'

'I don't find it strange. Cassy always manages to gather friends oddly,' shrugged Neville.

'Accidentally,' corrected Cassy. 'Besides, we spoke a few times as children, although she always annoyed me. You should all try having friends in other Houses, they do not define someone so completely as to be good or evil, you know. Look at _Wormtail_.'

Hermione hummed thoughtfully.

Cassy thought that Hermione might have understood what she had meant, but Ginny had clearly purposely missed the point. She nodded along and admitted it would be good to know what the Slytherins are up to, and while Cassy often thought it herself, it was not exactly what she had meant by it and Ginny's grinned cheekily at her. With a half-lidded glare, she turned to Neville, who snickered back at her.

Somewhere between the swelling crowd and the roaring cheers of the two teams filing onto the pitch, Michael Conner had joined them with a disinterested expression upon his face. He surveyed the teams as they flew high into the air.

'Hoping for a quick fire win? You've got a solid team, not as good as Ravenclaw, obviously, but your brother is a bit of a dampener, isn't he?' said Conner idly.

Ginny elbowed him hard in the ribs. 'Shut up!'

Despite the want of each and every Gryffindor to prove the other Houses wrong, with the stark-white form of Ron hung stiffly fifty-feet in the air it was difficult to gather morale. On the other side of the pitch, the Slytherins had no issue unleashing screams and cheers as their players swooped and dived, weaved their way through the swarming red of their rivals. The Quaffle passed easily between the Slytherins, until Katie Bell shot between them. She threw the ball to Johnson and back again before a blind Bludger from Crabbe.

'What a nasty shot!' called Lee Jordon from the stands. 'Okay, over to Johnson again, then a lovely shot Fred Weasley.'

Beneath the constant cries of enthusiasm from the commentator, a low rumble echoed through the stadium. It grew louder and clearer. Cassy strained her ears to distinguish. The hum of noise began to dim as more and more people noticed the continuous buzz. Words began to filter through and Cassy realised the Slytherin House were singing joyfully.

_Weasley cannot save a thing,_

_He cannot block a single ring,_

_That's why Slytherins all sing,_

_Weasley is our king!_

There was a terrible silence amongst the Gryffindors in the stands. Suddenly, Ginny threw herself forward, nearly knocking the first-years in the row in front from their seats as she cupped her hands around her mouth.

'Come on, Ron!' she roared.

The rest of Gryffindor followed suit with cheers and screams to drown out the Slytherin chanting. Cassy knew it was too late. She did not need binoculars to see that Ron had all ready heard the song. He wobbled side to side in the air, shoulders high and head low. She clapped all the same and as the Quaffle exchanged back to Slytherin hands, she even let out a high whistle in encouragement. Ginny yelled again and Hermione began to join in. Neville's hands rung together in tense anticipation, while Luna's hat let out a deafening roar.

'Ten points to Slytherin!' called Lee Jordon, reluctantly.

Cassy sighed and her housemates groaned in defeat. Ron had flung himself too far left, his arms spread wide around him with no home of catching the incoming Quaffle. Each goal following was like pressing a stinging wound, unneeded and raw, especially as the chants became louder, a new verse for every goal. The well-rehearsed lines were becoming difficult to ignore; Gryffindor had quickly lost morale and support was dwindling, despite their best efforts to continue with a brave face.

'We're being annihilated,' grumbled Dean over Cassy's shoulder.

'Ron would be all right if the singing stopped!' snapped Hermione.

'We could always go and set Snape's cloak on fire, that worked well last time,' suggested Neville and while Cassy let out a loud laugh, the others peered in confusion, not having understood the reference at all.

Cassy turned her attention towards the sky. Harry and Malfoy circled above the stands, moving in opposite directions with a wide berth between them, which she suspected was in case one tried to shove the other from their broomstick. She did not need to look down when the crowd around her broke into thunderous applause. Luna's hat roared and Gryffindor had finally scored.

'Thirty points is nothing!' cried Ginny. 'We can make it up!'

There was a flinch in Harry's circling and suddenly he dived. Straight down he flew, Malfoy by his side. The cheers only raged louder as the rest of the school noticed them dive too, closer and closer to the ground. Cassy craned her neck as they passed thirty-feet, twenty-feet, and closer still without an ounce of concern. She saw Malfoy pull up from the steep dive and smirked, knowing Harry had all ready secured Gryffindor victory before his hand had clasped the Golden Snitch. Five-foot from the ground, Harry pulled level. His hand stretched high into the air and although the furiously beating wings were invisible to the crowd so far away, the sound was deafening. Despite all odds, Gryffindor had won their first match.

'He made it!' squeaked Hermione, her hands having risen to her mouth in fear and excitement.

'Of course he did,' grinned Cassy.

There was a shuddering gasp from the crowd and only then did Cassy register the _crack_ that echoed through the stadium. Harry tumbled to the ground, his broom rolled beside him as a Bludger shot back into the air. Her head whipped around the Slytherin players and she growled lowly. Malfoy held a bat in his hand.

'Pathetic!' screamed Ginny. She scrambled over Cassy and Neville, almost pushing them into the next row in a bid to get closer to the front. She yelled it again, her hands cupped around her mouth in a bid to ensure Malfoy heard exactly what she thought about him.

Cassy struggled to pull her foot from the gap in the rows where it had slipped. She cast Neville a withering look that he returned with a small shrug, his eyes obscured from the hat Ginny had pushed down his head as she clambered over them.

'Next time Ginny does not sit with us,' stated Cassy, flatly.

'Agreed,' said Neville.

'Oh!' Hermione cried.

Cassy turned to her, before following her pointed finger. Down on the pitch, red and green had mixed, the bodies fumbling and flailing limbs visibly outstretched in a bid to land a blow.

'Are they fighting?' asked Luna.

'Harry punched him!' reported Hermione. 'He actually punched him.'

'Who?' questioned Cassy, unable to distinguish the players in their mass. She assumed Harry was somewhere in the fray of it all, but besides flashes of red-hair, it was hard to tell what part belonged to what body as everyone scrambled against one another.

'Malfoy! He punched Malfoy in the gut,' she said.

Cassy's eyebrows shot high onto her forehead, although she did not feel at all disapproving, nor particularly surprised by it. Her lips then thinned into a grim line. 'This is bad.'

Hermione nodded tensely.

'Why is this bad?' scoffed Ginny. 'He probably deserved it, especially after what he's been saying about you all month, Cassy.'

'It will not matter,' protested Cassy lowly.

'Why's that?' asked Neville.

Hermione nodded to the teachers' stand. 'Umbridge.'

The single word was enough for Neville and Ginny to grimace. Even Luna frowned somewhat as she turned her protruding eyes towards them once again. 'Madam Hooch is coming.'

The scuffle below was quickly separated. Cassy could see Harry now, held back by Katie Bell, who had helped wrangle one of the twins backward through the fight it seemed. The other was in a heated dispute with Professor McGonagall, who seemed not to be listening as she flicked her fingers and forced all three boys to slink behind her and strode off the pitch with them in tow. Professor Snape was besides Malfoy and the other Slytherins. The conversation did not seem nearly as heated, although Malfoy's hand was cupped against his nose, but whether that was genuine or not Cassy could not decide.

Boos and hisses flooded the grounds as the retreating students grumbled on their way back to castle. It did not take long for the crowd to break apart once the teams had left the pitch, although no one seemed too keen that their entertainment had ended so soon. Cassy and her friends bid good-bye to Luna, promising to see her at dinner once they had found Harry and the twins again. They weaved in and out of the clustered grounds that lined the halls. Gryffindor seemed in an odd state between excitement and trepidation and no one was certain if the radio should be brought out as usual and snacks to be gathered from the kitchens, or if they were to sit and wait in silence for the ultimately bad news that was sure to come.

Meeting at a point in the middle of unrestrained chatter and pockets of laughter, the common room was full of waiting students. Every time the door opened, all heads would turn in expectation, ready to pounce and ask what had happened. Cassy did not bother turning at the sound. She was certain that if her three friends were to step forward, she would know by the shire excitement that would surely explode amongst the students. Instead, she, Neville, Hermione, and Ginny sat at their small table in the corner, out of direct sight.

'He must have done something,' said Hermione, frowning.

'Harry doesn't just hit people,' agreed Neville.

'Fred and George probably would if you annoy them just enough. I can't think what Malfoy would have said though. They were really going for him,' added Ginny.

Whatever it was that had been said, no one had figured out. When the Gryffindor Quidditch Team finally emerged, they kept quiet and to themselves, with no sign of fuelling the excited rumours that had begun almost instantaneously.

Johnson stepped towards the table.

'Is Harry back?' she asked Cassy, grimly.

Cassy shook her head. 'There has not been a sign of him.'

Johnson sighed heavily and dropped herself down into a spare chair by the fire. She dug the palms of her hands into her eyes. 'It took forever to get him to even turn up to training. If he's gone and got himself suspended for the next match… we will never win the House Cup. This is my _only_ chance,' she groaned to herself. Katie Bell patted her sympathetically on the shoulder.

'Where's Ron?' asked Ginny, suddenly.

Craning her neck, Cassy could not see him in the common room. Upon reflection, she could not recall seeing him at all. She hummed lowly to herself and imagined where he had hauled himself to after the match. His face had all ready been visibly flushed in shame as he played; she doubted he would be returning soon if fear of heckles and taunts.

'Should I go and look in the boys' dorms?' offered Neville.

'Don't,' said Hermione. 'He hasn't come back yet.'

'I wouldn't either after that performance,' said Ginny, pursing her lips together tightly. 'I don't understand where the nerves are coming from though. He's always fine at home. He never has any issues… He'll turn up, as long as he isn't drowning himself in the shower like Oliver Wood did in my first-year.'

Had it been a different atmosphere, Cassy might have offered a smile at Ginny's poor joke.

Then, enticing a sudden roar of noise from the Quidditch Team, the portrait hole opened and three scarlet-clad figures stepped through. Instantly, Cassy noted the upturned lips and the flattened eyes; sadness and anger mixed together clearly on the faces of Fred and George, but Harry's expression was harder to read, although much the same.

The three Chasers swarmed around them, demanding an explanation. Harry slipped between them and slumped down into the empty seat between Hermione and Neville. His arms rose to the table and he buried his face in them without a word.

'What happened?' demanded Alicia Spinnett.

George refused to meet her gaze. 'We've been banned for life.'

There was a resounding silence.

The eavesdropping students who had turned to listen turned away. There were various levels of interest and shock, but as the seconds ticked by, reality set it for everyone; their team had lost three players in one foul moment. There was no way Gryffindor could win the Quidditch Cup with just three Chasers and a Keeper who could not save a single throw.

'What do you mean?' squawked Johnson.

'As in, Umbridge decided we can't play anymore. We're banned from Quidditch for life,' snapped Fred. He shrugged Bell's lax hands from him and stalked over to the fireplace, before he dropped himself into Johnson's vacated seat. The First-years around him scattered nervously.

'McGonagall was going to give us detentions, by Umbridge swooped in and prattled on about this new decree she passed. Apparently, she now had supreme say in all punishments. Nothing can be done about it,' added George, as he moved to join his brother.

* * *

It was rare that gossip did not travel quickly within the castle's walls. With only the company of those within it, students tended to feed off the latest story spun or tattled tale, so much that when dinner arrived that evening, it was of no surprise to anyone that the entire school seemed to know if Gryffindor's plight. Equally as unsurprising, was the news that Malfoy had merely received a detention with his Head of House for his taunts against the Weasley's and Harry's mother.

Although Harry refused to repeat exactly what had been said, no one doubted that Malfoy deserved the punch Harry had landed squarely on his right cheek bone. The purple patch of skin was easily visible across the hall and even more so with the loud coos and whimpers of sympathy that seemed to escape Pansy Parkinson's mouth every time she dabbed it lightly with a cloth through the meal.

The sight was enough for Cassy to push her plate away from her. A sneer passed over her face before she turned her attention elsewhere, eager to prevent any prying eyes from seeing her obvious contempt. With Professor Umbridge having ultimate control of punishments, Cassy knew she needed to remove anything that might trigger Professor Snape to let slip of the incident two days prior. While he had been strangely lenient with her – of which, she believed she was beginning to formulate a reasoning for – Professor Umbridge would not have any such remorse and Cassy would have her wand snapped and be on the first train to London before the day was through.

Carefully, she glanced at the Potions professor. Although it was difficult for even her to reason, she thought that perhaps he had taken pity on her and that was why his punishment was decidedly weak in comparison to the barrage she had expected. Cassy was not convinced that sympathy was an emotion Professor Snape could comprehend beyond its textbook definition, but it was the closest reason she had to explaining a mere two weeks of detentions. Professor Snape was a man of the Dark Arts. He was a former Death Eater and had dabbled, that much Cassy was certain from Mr Malfoy – he was no longer Lucius. It was possible, although she laughed to herself at the thought of it, that perhaps he had understood the allure and unconscious recall such spells had on one so young. A Death Eater at seventeen would surely have felt the call of such magic far stronger than she had.

Empathy aside, the other reason Cassy had conjured had been related to the Headmaster. Cassy knew a lot of the Order; she was the daughter of the keeper of their headquarters; the best-friend to the one he was so keen to protect. It would surely be chaos if she were to be expelled. Her friends were likely all under the same careful consideration. They had to be kept out of the eyes of the Ministry and away from the streets as much as possible.

There was no clean way to know if either theory was correct and Cassy was not willing to push her luck to see how far Professor Snape's patience would bend to try. Nor was she eager to encourage Professor Umbridge's careful watch or enlarge her self-satisfied smile and made sure to leave her meal early enough for her detention that she could not possibly be penalised.

As it was, she need not have bothered, for Professor Umbridge was in far too good of a mood to have noticed any lateness. She called with a sugary voice for Cassy to enter. It was only then she looked up from her work, without so much as a glance towards the clock. She beamed.

'Take a seat. The same as last time, please,' she said, her voice particularly cheerful. It was as though having Harry banned from the one joy he had left had filled her with infallible joy.

It appeared that the black quill had finally cleanly cut through Cassy's pale skin. Blood easily bubbled over the raised skin. The white hot searing that flared with every curling letter numbed into a faint itch. Blood pressed against the underside of her hand, smeared across the page and threatened to ware away another layer of skin as the writing became gradually more uneven with tired muscles and finely coated blood.

Cassy was thankful her writing was so consistent.

It was only an hour-and-a-half later that Professor Umbridge called an end to the detention. She did not seem to care that the lines were scarcely legible as the ink failed to settle, but rather she inspected Cassy's hand distantly with a pleased little smile. Instead, her attention seemed focused on the three letters she had spent a great deal of time writing at her desk. Each one was sealed with a wax stamp and the length almost equal if Cassy had counted the scratching of the quill right for each. There was no doubt they were for the Ministry. Most likely banning Harry, Fred, and George from Quidditch for life.

Cassy was quickly ushered from the room. Once the door had swung shut, she could hear Professor Umbridge's elated humming from within.

With pursed lips and a dipped brow, Cassy made her way back to the common room. She wiped the blood from her hand with a tissue from her pocket, quelling the flow just slightly. She was sure that when it healed it would be a stark white like Harry's.

Absently, she muttered the password as she halted outside of the Fat Lady. It swung open and Cassy quickly, instinctively, sidestepped as something green swept passed her. She watched it fall to the floor in a heap of cloth, bemused.

'Pick it up,' said Hermione quickly. 'We need to leave.'

Cassy turned and blinked.

'You'll need your coat. It might rain,' added Neville.

With a raised eyebrow, she asked, 'And we are going outside because…?'

'Because Hagrid's back,' said Harry. He strode to her, picked up her coat and stuffed it into her arms.

'Finally,' muttered Cassy, dressing herself as she walked. She stuffed the bloody tissue in her pocket and let Harry walk ahead with the Marauder's Map out and active. She mentally noted to take it off him later. The year so far had not exactly been shared custody of it.

No one crossed them as they exited to castle, nor appeared to be watching from the thin windows of the castle towers. Overhead, an owl hooted and Cassy glanced up to see three letters hanging from its feet.

'That is your banishment letter,' commented Cassy. One side of the Invisibility Cloak was wrapped around her and the other around Neville. Being as old as they were, they could no longer all fit snuggly under it and so had settled for making a screen to hide their backs from potential searching eyes within the castle as they hurried towards Hagrid's lit hut.

'Brilliant,' said Harry lowly.

'I can banish it for you,' offered Cassy lightly. 'The letter can be mysteriously lost in transit.'

'She'll just blame me anyway, I'm sure. Besides, it will just make her angrier and you have detention with her tomorrow,' he sighed, although his face had temporarily lit up at the idea.

Cassy looked thoughtful. 'I am not really fussed. She all ready praised the progress today, anyway.'

'How is your hand?' he asked, frowning down at her as he beat his fist against the large, wooden door. He turned to the keyhole suddenly. 'Hagrid, it's us!'

There was a gruff sound from within and Harry glanced back at Cassy for a reply. Before she could, the door opened and a heavy sigh greeted them.

Neville and Hermione gasped loudly.

'Hagrid!' cried Harry. 'What's wrong with your face?'

His bushy hair was slicked back, recently washed, revealing dark bruises and abrasions across his face and neck. His eye was forced shut by his swollen brow. The thick beard on his cheeks covered most of the discoloured skin, but even through the wiry hair more swellings were obvious.

Cassy moved her inspection down to his hand that rested on the open door. It was littered in cuts. Some were deep and old, whereas others were new and freshly bleeding beneath his haphazardly wrapped bandages.

'Let me re-wrap your hands,' demanded Cassy calmly, as she sidestepped.

Harry, Neville, and Hermione followed her in and Hagrid sighed again, but did not try to eject them again. He gently lowered himself down into one of the oversized chairs. The fire cracked, the hut filled with refreshing warmth from the chill of the autumn air outside. Without asking, Cassy filled a small cauldron of water from the tap and set it over the fire, before rummaging through the overhead cabinets on the tips of her toes for fresh bandages.

'There in that one there,' said Hagrid and pointed to a cupboard off to one side.

'Hagrid, what happened?' asked Harry, frowning.

Hermione busied herself making tea for them all.

'Nothin' much, just a bit of a rough patch, is all,' said Hagrid dismissively.

Cassy turned to him with a flat stare.

'Hagrid,' insisted Harry, warningly.

'Just did a bit 'o travelling, you know. Went and saw the sights,' he continued.

'And got assaulted whilst there?' muttered Cassy from atop a chair she was using to see into Hagrid's high shelves. She jumped down, bandages in hand.

'Is it to do with the giants you were visiting?' asked Hermione. She placed a large mug of tea in front of him.

Hagrid jumped, jostling the table and splashing the fresh tea. Hermione leaped back to avoid it and tutted before retreating to fetch a cloth.

'I don't know what yer mean,' stated Hagrid indignantly.

'Come on, Hagrid,' sighed Neville.

'It's not hard to figure out,' added Harry.

'Vanishing suddenly was ridiculously suspicious,' said Cassy.

She pulled the put of gently steaming water from the fireplace and placed it on a heat mat on the circular table. Neville appeared beside her, a clean cloth in hand and a bottle of disinfectant he had found on one of the shelves whilst Cassy had been searching for the bandages.

'I can clean wounds,' he offered with a smile. 'I was pretty accident prone as a child, so I know a bit about taking care of injuries.'

Cassy took a step back and left the bandages on the table for him, while she went to fetch her tea from the counter. Knowing Neville, he most likely knew more than he was willing to say and she was quite pleased to leave him to help when he knew he could. She then turned her attention back to Hagrid, who looked as though he was beginning to overcome his shock. Slowly, his one good eye lowered into a beady scowl.

'I have never met a bunch o' kids as nosey as yerselves. Too clever fer yer own good – that's no compliment, Cassy, yer can stop smirking,' grumbled Hagrid.

Cassy grinned at him. 'I do not know why you bother trying to lie, Hagrid. You know us well enough by now to know we will find out whatever we want to.'

He stared at her for a moment, before his beard began to twitch upwards at the sight of her cheeky smile and he sighed heavily, shaking his head. He reached out for the new tea Hermione brewed for him and thanked her with a smile, before settling the mug down comfortable in front of him, one hand held firmly in Neville's grasp.

'You lot are trouble, that's what yer are,' he muttered, sounding fond all the same.

'Where have you been, Hagrid? We haven't heard anything really since my trial,' said Harry.

Hagrid chocked. 'Your what?'

Harry blinked owlishly, the thought of someone not knowing his business shocked him. He began to explain the events of summer in sparse detail. He skimmed over the events, eager to hear what his friend had to say and tired of retelling the same tedious weeks over and over. Hagrid was stunned into silence. He spluttered when Harry rounded his tale of quickly with a flippant wave of his hand.

'I want to know where you've been,' insisted Harry. 'How did you end up like this?'

Taking a long sip from his mug, Hagrid began his long tale of absence. His face quickly lit up with a familiar far-away stare that Cassy recognised immediately as the smitten expression for only Madam Maxine. Sure enough, she had accompanied him on his task from Professor Dumbledore. They had pretended to be on the way to southern France on holiday to keep from prying eyes of any of the Headmaster's critics. They then turned eastwards and set on a long journey eastwards to the far mountains of Minsk.

'Hagrid,' interjected Cassy thoughtfully. 'Have you conjured an official story for all of this? Professor Umbridge will want to know where you have been.'

Hagrid stared blankly at her.

'She was asking where you had gone, she's the Defence professor and the supposed High Inquisitor. She's vile and will sack you before you can think of an excuse if she catches on to your lie,' added Harry quickly.

Hagrid ran a hand though his damp hair. 'Blimey. I'll say I needed some fresh air, or somthin' then.'

'There's fresh air all around here, Hagrid,' said Hermione and waved her hand to the window. 'It doesn't explain the injuries either.'

'I went on holiday and caught a French bug then, needed some treatment over there then. Don't you lot worry about nothin' like that. It'll be fine,' he shrugged. Without waiting for protest – for Hagrid knew them too well to think they would simply let his poor lying abilities slide – he continued on with his story. He told them how the journey had been slower than anticipated because for much of the trek through France they had had someone trailing after them. Careful not to speak of their plan and to continue on as normal, the pair had been forced deeper into southern France than excepted, but they slipped away from their follower around Dijon.

'Oh! I've been there on holiday,' interrupted Hermione with excitement.

'Didn't have much time to look around. We'd wasted enough time as it was, 'm not s'posed to do magic, really, so we had to hurry,' continued Hagrid. 'We chanced it after that and it wasn't until the Polish boarder we had a bit of trouble. Olympe was great though – she didn't complain once about walkin' or sleepin' rough. What a woman.

'Anyway, we ran inter some mad trolls an' I had a sligh' disagreement with a vampire in a pub, but everythin' was as smooth as we could 'ave hoped for. Then we trekked up the mountainside and had ter leave off with magic, Giants don't like it, yer see. That an' Dumbledore reckoned that You-Know-Who all ready sent a messenger of his own to them. We were all ready hard to miss, we didn't want ter bring more attention to ourselves with Death Eaters lurking about.'

Cassy took a long sip of her drink and Hagrid did the same. Harry leant eagerly forward.

'Then what?' he urged.

Hagrid shrugged and went to wave his hand flippantly, but Neville dragged it down back into the table. He appeared to be pulling some sort of thorn from Hagrid's thick skin.

'Sorry, Neville. We found 'em, the Giants, I mean,' he said. 'Just over a ridge. They'd made a den in the valley. Lit little fires everywhere, at least in comparison. Some of the Giants there were pushing twenty-five feet, I reckon.'

'How many were there?' asked Hermione.

'Seventy or eighty odd,' he replied. His face contorted slightly and Cassy frowned.

'They are endangered,' offered Cassy. 'That is not the worst possible number.'

Harry turned to her curiously, as though he had never heard of such a notion before.

'There used to be hundreds of tribes, about four-hundred-and sixteen at the peak of the fourteenth-century, it was thought. However, Giants are not supposed to live in close proximity to one another,' she explained.

'Dumbledore reckons it's our fault for makin' 'em live bunched up. Wizards made 'em leave their homes and retreat. They have to live together for their own protection, but they don't like it,' added Hagrid mournfully.

Neville paused and looked nervously up at him. 'Hagrid, Giants don't really… I mean, when they're together, they don't…'

'Yeah, they do,' sighed Hagrid heavily.

'Do what?' asked Harry.

'Kill one another,' said Hermione with a grimace. 'They don't have the best tempers.'

'What happened next?' queried Cassy. She was keen to move the conversation along before Hagrid's face crumpled any further.

He sighed. 'Once it was light, we went down ter see see 'em. Brought a gift Dumbledore had given us to give to the Gurg – '

'The what?' asked Neville.

'Gurg – the Chief,' he said. 'The biggest, ugliest, an' laziest one.'

They kept their eyes set on only the Gurg. The gift, a branch of everlasting Gubraithian fire, was held high about above their heads and was placed at his feet as they bowed. Karkus, the Gurg, did not speak English, Professor Dumbledore's kind greeting and offering meant nothing to him until a pair of Giants who did translated it. Cassy was privately impressed that the Giants had learnt English, given how far into Eastern Europe they were and how notoriously slow-minded they could be. Once Hagrid had explained what the present was, the Giants had been enamoured with it and he promised to bring them another gift the next day, careful not to over impose his presence; it was pivotal that the Giants knew the two would keep their promises, for Wizards and Giants had never gotten along, trust would be a slow and tedious task to build.

When they returned to the valley the next day, Karkus was sitting. His attention immediately flicked towards them and he listened to their retelling of what Professor Dumbledore had to say. In his hands was the Goblin forged helmet they had given as a gift. He did not speak and instead simply listened with great interest, many other Giants gathered around too to hear the dull murmur of the translation of their words. Hagrid had been hopeful that when they returned the next morning, Karkus would agree to help them, but everything then went wrong.

'A fight broke out that night,' explained Hagrid dully. 'When we went down the next morning, the snow was red and Karkus' head was on the bottom of the lake.'

Neville and Hermione gasped.

'There was a new Gurg, Golgomath. We didn't expect him to listen much, we hadn't bargained for a new Gurg so quickly, but we tried anyway.'

When Hagrid had attempted to give him another present that morning, he found himself hung by his feet high in the air by two giants before he had even got close to Gurg Golgomath. Hagrid sighed wistfully as he explained how Madam Maxine had shot a conjunctivitis hex at them and how the pair had been forced to flee far into the mountains. They had used magic to harm the Giants, there would be no way they would be accepted back to negotiate any longer. However, Hagrid had insisted that they could not leave just yet. Professor Dumbledore was relying on them, so they watched and waited for a chance to renegotiate. Although he did not say it, Cassy suspected the two were lying in hope that a new Gurg would arise, perhaps one that spoke English and had looked upon them favourably under Karkus. Soon, Hagrid's lips pursed and he frowned deeply, almost having lost his beady eyes in his bushy beard as he did.

'After a couple of days lyin' low and watchin', we saw somethin' we didn't want ter see,' he muttered.

'More deaths?' fretted Hermione.

Cassy took a long sip from her tea.

'Was the Gurg overthrown again?' asked Neville tensely.

'Death Eaters?' offered Harry.

'Exactly,' said Hagrid. He turned to nod at Harry. 'They didn't object ter all Wizards, just us. They brought him gifts and he didn't dangle him upside down. Me and Olympe decided to try and persuade the others to join us, didn't mean they all favoured You-Know-Who jus' because the Gurg did. Some hadn't wanted Golgomath as Gurg to start with.'

'How could you tell who they were?' asked Neville.

'Well, they were either being beaten, or hidin' in caves like we were. We thought we'd jus' go poking around at night and see if we could persuade some of them.'

Hermione bit her lip. 'That sounds awfully dangerous, Hagrid.'

Hagrid shrugged. It had not been the Giants they had been worried about, he explained, but rather the Death Eaters. If they were spotted, Voldemort would know what Professor Dumbledore was attempting to do, although he suspected Golgomath had all ready told them of them, and the Headmaster had asked them not to put their lives in anymore danger than necessary for their task. Despite knowing that the two Death Eaters were most likely searching the caves for them too, Hagrid and Madam Maxine had ventured out of hiding.

'It was hard to stop Olympe from jumpin' out and attacking them,' said Hagrid warmly. 'She's hard to calm once fired up, I reckon it's the French in her…'

There was silence for a moment as Hagrid's face became lax and his eyes suddenly misty. With his thoughts far away, Neville finally managed to tie the bandages around his hand with Hagrid finally having fallen still. After about thirty-seconds, Harry cleared his throat loudly.

'Did you convince anyone?' asked Harry.

'Er, well, we found some Giants in the sixth cave we visited. Three of them were bunched up in there. There wasn't room ter swing a kneezle. They were badly injured, but listened to what we had ter say. Had nothin' ter lose, I reckon. They didn't fancy Golgomath much at that point. We kept visitin' the caves, had about six or seven convinced at one point.'

'What do you mean "at one point"?' questioned Hermione tensely.

'Golgomath's lot raided the caves. The ones who survived didn't want anythin' ter do with us after that,' admitted Hagrid.

'So no one is coming then?' concluded Neville.

Hagrid shook his head and sighed heavily. With the warmth of the fire, his damp hair had somewhat dried and had sprung back into its tight curls. Many of the bruises on his face vanished with the volume, but his eye was still swollen shut and black. It looked fresher than the story he had told and Cassy frowned slightly, wondering what trouble Hagrid possibly could have gotten himself into to appear so beaten. He was a half-giant; half-giants were not as susceptible to injury as humans and that is what made Hagrid an ideal candidate for his position as Care of Magical Creatures professor. Even if he had been beaten by the giants and forced from the mountains, it had been months. He should have begun to heal.

'Hagrid,' began Hermione tentatively.

Snow had begun to fall outside. The crack in the floral curtains let the flurry of white show through as it slowly built on the windowsill. They needed to leave soon, or else their footprints would be too clear on the grounds if the snow grew much deeper.

Hagrid turned to Hermione.

'Did you hear anything about your mother while you were there?' she asked.

Hagrid's face immediately crumpled and Hermione spluttered as she tried to retract her words. Hagrid shook his head and waved off her concern.

'Dead,' he said. 'She died years ago. I can't remember her anyway. She wasn't much of a mother.'

'You still haven't explained how you got all these injuries though,' said Harry, 'or why you're back so late. Sirius said Madam Maxine was back ages ago. Where did you go?'

Hagrid visibly tensed and Cassy narrowed her eyes further. She knew he was hiding something, but he had just confirmed it for her that it was something he was certainly not supposed to have done.

Before he could speak, there was a sharp knock on the door.

'At this hour?' grumbled Hagrid.

Everyone's head shot towards the door. Through the covered window, the faint outline of a short, stout figure could be seen outside.

'It's her!' hissed Hermione.

In an instant, everyone was on their feet.

'Who?' demanded Hagrid quickly.

'Umbridge!' moaned Harry. He pulled the cloak from his chair and threw it over Cassy, Neville, and Hermione who had gathered at his side in a tight huddle. Once they vanished, Hagrid shoved their mugs into a cupboard and took one large stride to answer the door. It was impossible to see Professor Umbridge with Hagrid's huge form blocking out the door entirely. She was heard before she was seen, speaking his name tartly as she invited herself in. With her nose high in the air, she inspected his little hut.

'I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?' asked Hagrid, bemused.

'My name is Dolores Umbridge,' she said. Her eyes continued to meticulously sweep the length of the cabin. They brushed over the corner the four were hiding in twice before she settled them back on Hagrid.

'Right.'

'I am the Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher and the High Inquisitor,' she said.

Hagrid made an enquiring noise, but she paid him no attention.

'Where have you been? How did you sustain those injuries?' she asked.

Hagrid cleared his throat and peered at the corner where the four were hiding. 'I, er, fell off a friend's broomstick while in France. You see, I don't normally ride brooms, too big, really. I got a bit beaten up, the broom didn't like me much. I came down with somethin', a nasty infection, they reckoned. Had to stay away for my health.'

Cassy almost sighed in relief. It was a poor lie, but it showed that at least Hagrid had put some thought into his excuse while they had been talking. While Professor Umbridge did not look at all convinced, she hoisted her handbag higher onto her shoulder and smiled a sickly sweet smile.

'I see. I must inform you that it is my responsibility to inform the Ministry of your late return and the unfortunate burden that I must inspect my fellow co-workers, so dare I say we will see each other again very soon,' she said.

'Inspect?' echoed Hagrid.

'Oh, yes,' she said, 'the Ministry is _weeding_ the school, so to speak. Goodnight.'

The door shut swiftly and Hagrid was left to inspect her retreating form through the slither between the curtains. He nodded back at them and ran his hand through his hair.

'Hagrid,' said Hermione immediately. 'You need to be careful around her. What do you have planned for our lessons?'

Hagrid seemed to miss the way Hermione's hands wrung nervously in front of her as he grinned.

'Don't you worry about that. I've got something really special planned.'

Everyone groaned.

'_Hagrid!_'

* * *

**I have not had a chance to write in a while because my dissertation was in and now I have exams coming up in two weeks. I delayed putting this out a bit to give myself more chance to get ahead with my chapters, but seeing as I need to concentrate on work for another two weeks anyway, a month is a long time to go without an update. I will just have to write more after it to put a good gap between my published and currently writing ones. **

**Anyway, this is quite a rehash of the book at the end, but seeing as it was not in the film I thought people might be a little less familiar with it than other scenes. It is something I feel should have been in the films because of the relevance to the Order and Hagrid's brother later on, but then fifth-year is my least favourite film anyway. Well, besides HBP in some senses, because, really, Ginny had no personality at all in that film. Not that I was her biggest fan at some points in the book then either, but they ruined her entirely…**

**Back on track, I hope you liked it! I have noticed that more people read the last chapter of my double update than read the first, so I do wonder if it all made sense to them or not. As always, review if you please.**

**Thanks!**


	19. The Nutcracker

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XIX: The Nutcracker**

Cassy scowled, her hands on her hips. A small part of her wanted to sigh and just let what would happen happen, because there was no reasoning that would change anything. However, a larger, more stubborn and duty-bound part of her refused. She had put her foot down and demanded Hagrid change his lesson plan the morning after she and her friends had visited him. No matter how wide her vocabulary was, or how many different ways she could think to explain the situation to him, nothing seemed to sink into his brain.

'Hagrid,' she said sharply. 'She will fire you.'

Hagrid shrugged. 'My lesson plans are good! I've saved all the best beasts for OWLs.'

'Hagrid, that might be the problem,' interjected Hermione softly.

'They are looking for a reason to fire you,' said Cassy hotly. Her temper was too short that morning to do much but be critically honest; all of her patience had been used in the last half-an-hour talking in circles in a gentle attempt to get Hagrid to see the severity of the situation he was in. He was just not understanding it though.

'Why would they do that?' he asked and sipped his coffee, unconcerned if somewhat perplexed.

'You have to look at who you are Hagrid,' said Hermione.

'What d'ye mean?'

'She hates half-breeds,' stated Cassy bluntly. 'She was the one who drafted the law that made it impossible for Werewolves to get work, let alone work with children. She will try and undermine you.'

'There's jus' no way she won't be impressed with my plan,' said Hagrid gruffly. He stood. 'Now, you two need ter get back up for breakfast before anyone finds out yer were here.'

'Hagrid, please! You must be careful,' begged Hermione.

He did not listen to her. Cassy and Hermione found themselves quickly hoisted up by the back of their coats and deposited onto the early November snow. The door slammed behind them, and Cassy immediately began to stomp back up to the castle. Hermione hurried beside her, a giant mug still held in her hands half-full of fresh tea.

'That was a waste of time,' she grumbled.

'If it were anyone else, they would have understood, but he is always happy to be oblivious,' snapped Cassy. 'I can deal with arguments, debates, court, politics, theories, and more, but someone who does not want to see reason is truly beyond me. Flattery did not work and being blunt did not work. There is no reasoning with him. It is as though everything we said was lost before even reaching his brain.'

Hagrid was not the type of person who could slowly be convinced to act. It was either an immediate agreement or a stubborn refusal. If he was not willing to listen to them before his lessons began that day, then there was truly no hope.

Hermione sighed heavily. 'We will just have to see how the lesson goes in two days' time then.'

Cassy pursed her lips. They explained to the others what they had tried to do and while Harry sighed heavily, he made no attempt to convince Hagrid himself. There was a long list of Ministry concerns with creatures and a very short list in comparison of what they deemed appropriate to teach. From the depths of the library, Cassy had extracted a thin book of creature classification and had sorted through the rank of every creature Hagrid had ever shown them. Hippogriffs were deemed dangerous, only available at NEWT level, and that had almost ended poorly in third-year without the help of any High Inquisitor. In fact, there were only a handful of creatures they had seen that had been deemed age appropriate at all, and if Hagrid was excited about his classes then she knew nothing harmless would be in them.

Instead of concentrating on the inevitable outcome of the inspection, Cassy turned her attention to her birthday celebrations that morning instead. Many parcels had made it through the rigorous screening process. Tonks and the Weasleys had sent her something, as well as a disguised gift from her father written under the name of 'Jack Green' and an unexpected gift from Remus. Although Cassy had not seen them, she was certain Plum and Kitsy had sent her breakfast. It was more delicately cooked than anything else, full of unusual foods that were pure perfection and best of all it appeared directly on her plate.

She ate it hurriedly though to give herself time to deposit her parcels upstairs. Luna had pushed another brightly wrapped present into her arms before she stood and another two were piled on top by Stephen and Astoria. She placed them all on her bed with the unopened ones from Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Ginny. Pausing, she ran her hands over the flexible, soft gift from Mr and Mrs Weasley. She ripped it open and pulled out a grey and purple knitted winter set. The woollen garments were covered in a complex cable pattern and Cassy quickly tugged the hat and gloves on and wrapped the long, thick scarf around her neck before she retreated back down to the entrance hall to meet her friends for their first lesson.

Harry pulled on the bobble of the hat as they walked and revelled in the fact that Cassy could not easy reach to swipe his hat from his head.

He let out a loud groan suddenly, and Cassy soon sighed too at the sight of the leathery creatures on the other side of the distant fence. Sharp, pointed faces, and the rippled backs were visible over the heads of the already gathered crowd. Late autumn sunlight filtered through the stretched skin that formed the giant wings.

'What is it?' asked Hermione with a frown.

'Thestrals,' said Cassy and Harry together.

'Oh, for the love of…' muttered Hermione.

'How high on the scale are Thestrals?' queried Neville grimly in a tone that suggested he all ready knew.

'High,' they all replied flatly.

When they reached the paddock, it was plainly clear that the lesson was going to be an arduous task in itself for no one seemed to see the Thestrals at all. The students loitered near the fence, many spoke idly to one another, arms resting on the wood and eyes glazed over more each time they spared a thoughtful glance at the seemingly empty space.

It was only when Hagrid clapped his hands together when they had all arrived that the rest seemed to realise something was wrong.

'Is there anybody here who knows what's behind me?' he asked excitedly.

'A paddock?' responded a Slytherin, dully.

Hagrid rolled his beady eyes. 'Anyone else. C'mon now!'

With a heavy sigh, it was Hermione who called out to answer him. He beamed, clapped his hands again and apparently missed Professor Umbridge's alarmed shriek behind them all.

'Now, who here can see them? Don't be shy, put up yer hands,' she said.

Slowly, four hands rose into the air. Cassy, Harry, Neville, and Theodore Nott, in a surprise announcement. He was given many curious looks, but nothing like the intensity of Malfoy's incredulous stare at Cassy. His eyebrows dipped low towards his grey eyes and his mouth was open as if searching for words through his muddled thoughts.

'And exactly who have you seen die?' he eventually blurted loudly across the grassy plain. The Gryffindors had huddled to one side and the Slytherins on another.

Cassy turned to him flatly and without missing a beat, she said, 'Our uncle.'

A deathly silence fell across the two houses. Hagrid shifted uncomfortably and not even Professor Umbridge seemed to have a bitterly sweet remark to make. The moment her quill touched the parchment, Harry cleared his throat loudly. Startled, Hagrid burst back into action and the lesson began at long last, although seemed to have little proper planning. Cassy could help but stare flatly at her half-giant friend as he tried to explain what Thestrals looked like without the use of a diagram and had them draw out their thoughts instead. He was full of interesting information on them though, he had been helping to keep the herd for many years now – Professor Umbridge coughed at this – and that they favoured a diet of meat despite their horse-like appearance.

What Cassy did not wish to see was the small flock in the paddock devour a cow carcas. Despite Hagrid's merry thoughts that it would be an interesting watch, no one seemed to enjoy watching meat slowly be ripped from the bones and vanish in the air. There was an air of morbid fascination more than anything by the end of the lesson and so it came to no surprise to Cassy, Harry, Neville, and Hermione when ten days later Hagrid announced to them that he had been placed on probation.

'I think they're interesting, Hagrid,' assured Neville as he patted Hagrid's shoulder sympathetically, 'but perhaps you should stick to more normal creatures.'

'Where's the fun in that?' demanded Hagrid mournfully.

'Normal creatures can be fun too,' assured Hermione. She wore her best-forced smile and even that was utterly lopsided. It did not matter; Hagrid only had an interest in his little letter penned in pink ink.

Neville patted his back again and the four vowed to keep his probation a secret. It would only cause him more issues if anyone were to know, people might become excited by the possible return of Professor Grubbly-Plank and that would only speed up his sacking. It was not as though they had any genuine belief that Professor Umbridge cared for popular opinion, but there was no doubt she would leap at the opportunity as soon as she managed to find a suitable replacement. It was fortunate that it was rumoured towards the end of her stay Professor Grubbly-Plank had begun to feel restless in her old job and had not wanted to continue beyond the end of term.

The weight of Hagrid's imminent demotion blurred in with the massive influx of last minute homework the staff were desperate to hand out as the days passed into early December. Compared to the first half of term, Cassy found that there was relatively little occurring and for that she was glad. The stresses of her earlier weeks had faded, although an occasional flare of anger reminded her of her estranged relationship with Malfoy and a nagging voice in the back of her mind occasionally compelled her to search for Shandy at mealtimes amongst the mass of familiar Slytherins he had always surrounded himself with. She had expected him to avoid her gaze, to pretend she did not exist, but instead he would catch her eye, seemingly accidentally, before he turned and continued what he had been doing. There was no open disdain or fear and it only made Cassy more tempted to seek out his gaze and it took a lot of self-restraint to keep her eyes on her friends and food at each meal instead.

Despite the growing ease, Christmas seemed to lack the same appeal it normally did. There was no time to be festive with the work that was quickly piling up from Cassy's ten classes. Yet some enjoyment could be found in watching Hermione and Ron complain as they set out the decorations along the corridor leading up to the common room.

'They get shorter and cheekier every year, I swear,' moaned Ron as he glared over the sofas once the two had returned. 'We were never that rude!'

Cassy tilted her head to one side and said, 'True, but I think instead of insulting the décor, Neville would have accidentally ripped something down, I would have handed out a scathing remark to those bold enough to laugh, and Harry would have drawn in more unwanted attention with his forehead until the entire corridor was blocked off with rowing students. Really, you are quite fortunate with your remarks.'

Harry gave her a wary grin over his homework and Neville nodded along as though long since having accepted his clumsiness.

'I swear if you ripped it down…' began Ron.

'You will do what, Weasley?' challenged Cassy, smirking.

'Well, I'd have to think about it for a bit, but I would make it brutal,' he shrugged.

'Should we test that?' She gave him a wolfish grin and he puffed up his chest in a fashion not dissimilar to his estranged older brother Percy.

'Can we not, please?' pleaded Neville. He and Harry were desperately trying to finish their homework and the longer Cassy had watched them struggle along, the more incapable she had become at holding her tongue. Partially out of boredom and partially on purpose, she had distracted the pair since they had settled down from dinner and Neville seemed to be slowly losing grip on his will to try.

'My pride dictates I must duel,' said Cassy dramatically.

'I accept your challenge!' proclaimed Ron.

Neville sighed heavily, but looked amused none the less, while Harry shook his head with a glint in his eye that suggested it was something he would very much like to see.

'Must you?' asked Hermione.

'I do not deal well with boredom. I need constructive thought in my life,' said Cassy flippantly. Her thoughts had been lingering on the long list of advice she could hand to Hagrid to slow his descent but with no way to convince him, she had become slowly frustrated and swapped to more bearable action and that was to distract everyone and herself. True to her words, Cassy did not cope well with unconstructive thought. It was too messy, often pointless, and only lead to high emotions and mistakes. Dwelling was unconstructive; sadness was unconstructive; boredom was incredibly unconstructive and Cassy was still searching for a hobby that was outside of a scholarly line. Skills, languages, and instruments were fine hobbies, but not often entertaining and she found her life already full of chores and tasks that the idea of adding another, no matter how fascinating, was a tedious one.

Regardless of the vague want to do something different, Cassy still found herself heading to the library moments later. Cassy slipped into one of the seats, thinking hard. She could not take up an instrument because there was no music room, she could not write a novel because despite a broad imagination and decisive reasoning it would consume too much study time if her mind were allowed to wander that far, and art was out of the question as she was certain it would look worse than anything the Giant Squid could produce.

There was a distant tapping, high and short, but she did not pay it any attention.

Hobbies were difficult to think of. Hermione had knitting and Neville had his plant collection, Harry and Ginny both shared Quidditch fanaticism, while Luna was content to make her own clothes and accessories, none of which Cassy had much interest in at all.

The tapping continued, louder now. The thought of trying to teach her resentful owl some commands faded from her mind as she turned to the edge of the table just in time to see a black and red tiny figure clamber over the top. Stiffly, the tiny figure hoisted itself up, its back moved as a single block, unbending. It straightened out its fluffy beard and saluted her. The wooden soldier proceeded to march towards her, his arms swung at his side. A small flag under its arm was pulled out and the square of stiff paper read: 'Cheer up!'

Blinking incredulously, Cassy peered around the clearing and down all connecting aisles until she spotted a head of brown hair, a slight curl to it, thick black glasses frames in front of brown eyes and wide, toothy grin gleamed brightly in her direction. As she shook her head, she plucked the soldier from the table and wandered over to Stephen and pulled out a chair at his table.

'What's this?' she asked, setting the soldier down.

It saluted her again and pulled a wooden gun from his back and began to march again.

'We were messing around in Transfiguration because a few of us finished early and McGonagall was more concerned with stopping Umbridge murdering some lower years in the corridor than setting us more work,' he explained.

'You made this?' Cassy asked, impressed.

'Yeah, just a bit of woodwork and some paint spells, brought him to life and there you have it,' he said simply. 'Making him spatially aware though took a bit of an effort. He fell off the table twice when I wasn't looking.'

'It's adorable,' she said.

'You can keep it,' offered Stephen. 'You look like you could do with some cheering up.'

Cassy smiled and shook her head. 'I am not unhappy, I was just thinking.'

She thanked him for the soldier, which jumped from the stack of books and bent its legs stiffly at the knee-joints with a clatter and bowed to balance itself again. She plucked it back up and began further reading on the next chapter of Ancient Runes. She had considered doing some Defence Against the Dark Arts reading, but all of the books had been taken from the library and replaced with 'Ministry Approved' materials. When that was done only half-an-hour later, she returned to the common room, the soldier still in her hand, only his wooden head carefully following whoever she passed in the corridor, staring down the students with his large, blue painted eyes and his gritted teeth. Once in the common room, she placed him down on the arm of the sofa; he wobbled and carefully straightened himself, his arms spread widely. She smiled down at it.

'Cassy,' called Harry from the armchair opposite, 'what's that?'

'A nutcracker. Stephen gave it to me; he made it himself,' she explained. 'It responds entirely to its environment as well, which is advanced magic and it is well crafted. I am pleasantly impressed, to be honest.' When she looked back up at them, Neville had scooted closer to have a better look and Hermione was eyeing it curiously as it marched up and down the arm.

'Why did he make you something?' asked Harry, frowning.

'Christmas spirit?' offered Cassy absently. She was more focused on the peculiar expression Hermione had on her face. It was not the first time she had seen it lately, but Cassy could not place the cause for such a thoughtful gaze.

After a few moments of watching the soldier wobble, she took him upstairs to the dormitory and told him to stay put on her bedside table. When she returned, the conversation had already moved on. Hermione was trying to explain how unappealing she found skiing, having gone twice before when she was younger with her parents. They were wanted her to go again at Christmas, but she was not so sure she wanted to go.

'There's too much going on here!' protested Hermione when Cassy and Harry turned to give her flat stares.

'It will be fine, Hermione,' assured Harry. 'Go and have a Christmas with your family.'

'This is what Cassy tried to make me do in summer and look how staying away turned out then,' argued Hermione.

'All you will have is to be locked up with us,' warned Cassy. 'I am supposed to be spending Christmas Day with Tonks' parents, in fact, so I will not even be there.'

The letter Tonks had sent made it very clear that Cassy would be making no alternative plans for Christmas. As expected, there was no mention of Grimmauld Place and while Cassy had debated choosing to remain at school, she knew her loathing of Professor Umbridge would overrule her discontent at invading the Tonks' family dinner.

'And I've been invited to Neville's,' said Harry.

Hermione sighed heavily. The three of them knew it was difficult for Hermione to place herself; she had no family involved in the Order, and she was not the primary target of Voldemort, so she had no basis to know or demand information. While her friends would surely tell her everything, Harry continued to feel guilty. He understood what it was like to have to rely on others for information.

'With any luck,' said Cassy lowly, 'I will be able to spend most of the holiday at Grimmy. I can keep an eye on things that way and Tonks can hardly deny me it.' If she dropped the prospect of Remus being at Grimmauld Place over Christmas to her cousin, she was almost certain Tonks would agree to take her there.

'He can't spend Christmas alone,' said Harry resolutely. 'I had a dream of him pulling a cracker with Kreacher the other night.'

Cassy and Neville laughed, while Hermione sniffed.

'I don't think even the holidays can bring them together,' said Neville.

By the time the four went to bed, the common room had mostly emptied. Neville made a passing comment that they had not seen Ginny for hours, but Hermione brushed the thought away with a shrug of her shoulders and a the idea that Ginny was in her room with her friends already. Contrary, Cassy knew exactly where Ginny was. Waking earlier than much of the House had its uses and one had been to catch Ginny sneaking downstairs in the early hours, her hair tied back and old, tatty trainers on her feet. It had only taken the sight of Cassy's large, blue-eyes peaking over the top of the sofa for Ginny to heave a heavy sigh and admit that she had been sneaking out of the castle for days now in preparation for the Quidditch Trials.

There had been a moment where she thought she saw a glimmer of the Ginny she had met in second-year, embarrassed and unsure, but it was squashed by the determined glint in her eyes and the cool confidence Ginny had developed so rapidly through the last two-and-a-half years.

'Good luck then,' said Cassy and Ginny had nodded back in thanks and that was the last the two had spoken about it. With any luck, by tomorrow evening Ginny would be the new Gryffindor Seeker.

* * *

Despite only being a Wednesday, the day that followed was critically unproductive. Snow billowed from the grey skies, swirling and dancing outside the windows all through the day and enchanted to do the same through the meals in the Great Hall. The castle smelt of cinnamon and ginger, warm from the burning fires filled the halls with vigour, and all attention drifted from the lessons to the holiday plans. Even the teachers were reluctant to push work, although Professor McGonagall had refused to let them break early for lunch.

The last day of term was not until Friday, but with the weather blisteringly cold outside and the frost that built on the steamed windows growing with each minute that ticked by, the will to learn had completely dissolved into a firm desire for the Christmas holidays to hurry forward. The weather had cancelled Astronomy that night and with the evening free, Harry had called a last minute Dumbledore's Army meeting before the term officially ended.

Cassy and Harry walked ahead of Neville and Hermione to the Room of Requirement. Hermione had called him back to discuss their latest Herbology homework results and he had been only too eager to debate. They had drifted out of sight somewhere along the way, but if ears were strained, the sound of Neville's enthusiastic chatter could still be heard some distance away.

Neither Cassy nor Harry thought anything of it, but as soon as the door opened to reveal the training room Harry had never been so thankful to have had them missing.

'Oh my God,' he muttered.

'This is brilliant,' gasped Cassy. Her eyes glittered with mirth and she grinned at the sight of the hundred baubles that hung from the ceiling. Silver and gold, they glistened in the lamplight, each one plastered with a photograph of Harry's face on one side, while the other read: 'Have a Harry Christmas.'

'Dobby,' gasped Cassy with the effort not to laugh, 'you must let me keep one of these.'

The elf turned to them from where he had been hanging stockings on the fireplace and jumped excitedly on the spot, his feet caught in tinsel he had draped across his many woollen jumpers.

'You like it?' he cried eagerly.

Before Cassy could agree, Harry cut in. 'Please get rid of them, Dobby. Let's just have plain decorations.' His voice was as flat as the glare he sent Cassy over his shoulder.

She grinned and tried to act nonchalant. 'I think they are very clever. I would like to keep one, Dobby, as a memento.'

'You will not!' Harry pushed her to the side as she reached up to pluck one from the ceiling. She chortled as he grabbed her hands and begged Dobby to charm them blank. When they had become undeniably less interesting, Harry let her go and Cassy stared forlornly up at the ceiling.

They only had a few moments to recover before other members began to flood into the room. In turn, they each marvelled at the decorations, with wild tinsel strung across the bookshelves, icicles that hung from the windows, the tree in the corner, decorated and sprite, and the ceiling that glittered silver and gold. Dobby had outdone himself and it was certainly a job better done by him than the poor effort along the hall to Gryffindor that Hermione and Ron had done not long ago. The lights were brighter and warmer somehow, offsetting the coldness of the day with a familial warmth that was truly marvellous.

'This is fantastic, Dobby,' praised Cassy.

Dobby rocked on the balls of his feet, an embarrassed grin on his little face. His hands moved from behind his back and he presented a golden ball to her.

'Thank-you!' cheered Cassy, hushed.

The Harry on the bauble smiled up at her and snow drifted lazily in the background. It was even better close up and she could not wait to string it up in Grimmauld Place and see his reaction when he had inevitably fought his way to visit her father. If nothing else, she was certain Sirius would take great pleasure from it.

'Dobby will put it in your room, Miss Black, for safe keeping,' he said and Cassy nodded in thanks before he Apparated away.

Turning with a smile still on her lips, she approached Harry and Ginny. He turned to her and nodded at Ginny. 'She's the new Seeker.'

'Congratulations,' offered Cassy sincerely and Ginny smiled back at her.

'Only for now. I want to try out for Chaser next year and besides, there won't be a place for me as Seeker when Harry's back on the team!' shrugged Ginny.

'I have a life ban,' he said, frowning.

'Everyone is hoping to "one year curse" will come into action again,' said Cassy airily.

Harry snorted and shook his head.

The session began shortly after. Everyone gathered around to listen to the review of the year so far and with merely a recap of the spells they had already learnt or practiced as the task, they all split into pairs. Cassy and Ginny moved into their own spot. On one side was Neville and Luna and on the other was Hermione and Ron, whom Cassy liked to keep an eye on during duelling because tempers were short between the pair and it was never long before Ron was blasted across the rule for undermining Hermione's skill. While he was learning, he could never quite dodge quickly enough.

'I can't wait until next year is normal again and we have a good Defence Teacher,' said Ginny as the pair froze and unfroze one another.

'It would be a terrible time for the curse to fail,' agreed Cassy.

'It's not really cursed, you know,' called Hermione. 'That sort of magic is incredibly difficult, especially to last so long!'

'I hope it's real if it gets rid of her!' said Ginny.

Cassy froze Ginny. 'Personally, I think Professor Umbridge might be the best person for defence, actually.'

Neville was so surprised that he threw his wand at Luna instead of jinxing her and Ron tripped on his feet to the floor with a loud clatter. Hermione and Ginny stared at her incredulously and even Luna looked as though Cassy had lost her mind.

'I'm sorry, what was that?' called Harry from across the room. 'Did you just…?'

Cassy blinked at him owlishly. 'Think about it. If you were ever in combat and needed a distraction, merely the sound of her voice would send the enemy into such a frenzy they would surely target her instead. She is an unfailing scapegoat.'

'Truer words were never spoken,' said Ron from the ground.

'I thought for a moment we could no longer be friends,' said Ginny dramatically.

Harry silently laughed across the room and the lesson ambled onwards to the end of the hour with little disruption. By the time he clapped his hands together and called an end to the session, they have covered everything they had learnt in the last two months and there had not been a single person unable to cast any of the spells.

Harry beamed at them all as a proud parent might to his child with an O on his homework. 'Keep this up and we might begin Patronuses next term.'

A wave of excited chatter erupted and even the eager eyes of the most sceptical members shone brightly as they left in groups of two and three. Cassy drew in Susan Bones and Ernie Mcmillan in for a conversation before they had a chance to leave. She wished them each a good holiday and asked after their families, it was merely small talk, but there was little Bones liked to talk about more than how proud of her, Madam Bones who had overseen Harry's trial, and Mcmillan had a large family of at least nine generations of pure-blooded heritage to complain about as they were forced to gather for family meals each Christmas. She praised and sympathised until the two were glowing with contented happiness before she let them go. However, rather than a simple contact arrangement, Cassy found that unlike Zabini, the pair seemed easy to talk to and genuinely pleasant people. She made a note to continue her efforts to get to know them.

She turned as she reached the door. Neville and Hermione were only a few steps ahead, but Harry had vanished as he packed away. As soon as she turned, she knew not to wait. By the mirror at the far end of the hall stood Chang. Her shoulders shook and despite the distance Cassy could see the crumpled reflection of her face. A newspaper clipping of Cedric had been stuck to the mirror, inspiration for their efforts, Hannah Abbot had said when she had brought it in. It had been largely covered by the tinsel draped over the frame, but Chang had unearthed it and stood weeping at the sight of his handsome, smiling face.

Harry stood some feet ahead, watching her too and Cassy turned swiftly and left. She had promised herself to let him be happy whatever it meant and she was not about to interrupt such a brilliant opportunity for Harry and Chang to bond. She dared not think about the mistletoe hung above the Ravenclaw. It was this that made it impossible for Cassy not to jump in utter shock when the bottle-green eyes of Harry suddenly stared down at her only inches from her face.

He grimaced. 'Cho's crying.'

'Yes, she is,' said Cassy, somewhat perplexed.

'I probably shouldn't have just left her there,' he said lowly, the thought evidently just having crossed his mind.

Cassy, still dazed, was in no hurry to send him back to Chang's arms, nor was she willing to show her growing relief that he had turned and ran straight from her. Instead, she asked, 'And why did you?'

'She's upset about Cedric,' said Harry as though the reason were obvious. 'What can I say to that? "Sorry he didn't kill me instead"? I am probably the last person she wants to speak to right now. I was hoping one of the Ravenclaws might be out here so they can go and talk to her… I didn't see her friend here today either.'

The pair continued to walk down the near empty halls, silent from the closeness to curfew. Neville and Hermione turned to glance at them occasionally from their few steps in front, but there was no sign of another Ravenclaw in sight.

'I thought you would have wanted the excuse to talk to her,' said Cassy.

Harry blinked.

'You do still like her, don't you?' asked Neville.

Harry blinked again. 'No.'

'Really?' asked Cassy, barely managing to keep her tone conversational as the shocked word tumbled from her lips.

'Yeah,' he said with a frown. 'I haven't for ages. Is that why you keep leaving me alone with her?'

So he had noticed, thought Cassy.

'Cho likes you, Harry,' said Hermione forwardly as she fell back into step with him. 'She watches you all the time and always tries to get your attention. I think that's why she was crying because she feels guilty over liking you and moving on after Cedric.'

'Did I - ? I didn't mean… I didn't mean to give the impression I liked her back! Do you think she does?' he asked warily.

'Everyone thought you did,' admitted Neville and Harry sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his messy hair.

'I was trying to be nice after what happened with Cedric and then we speak because of the DA. I didn't realise it came across like that,' he confessed, his eyebrows scrunched guiltily. 'I just feel like… it's my responsibility to make sure she's all right because if it wasn't for me, Cedric wouldn't be dead and we wouldn't be at war.'

'Don't be ridiculous!' snapped Hermione.

'None of this is your fault,' insisted Neville.

'Voldemort would have found a way to return with or without you,' offered Cassy calmly. 'You have done more for us than anyone else at the moment anyway.'

Hermione put her hand on his arm. 'Cho will learn to deal with the loss, but having you so close won't help her feel better. She'll just feel guiltier, so maybe be a little more distant after Christmas. You have done enough for her, Harry. None of this is your fault. It was a tragedy caused by Voldemort alone.'

There were a few seconds of silence, but Harry soon nodded slowly and shot them each a little smile. 'Thanks, guys.'

Despite herself, Cassy grinned.

* * *

**Sorry for the slowness of the updates. My exams are now done and went horribly, so I am doing so writing to cheer myself up. **

**I know Harry is very emotionally receptive and cares greatly, but I can see him being the type of person who can be very unaware of emotion directed at him. While he would never intentionally mess with someone's feelings, I think he's one of those guys that would be nice and not realise the implications, personally, and if he didn't fancy Cho then I think he still would have paid her extra attention to make sure she was all right out of a sense of duty. Exactly where his sense of duty kicked in and his feelings taper out are an ambiguous point in the plot, but it covers why he still seemed to fancy her earlier in the year. So, with that revelation, something might be coming soon. Then again, maybe not, I like to leave you guys guessing a bit! ;) **

**Nothing actually happens in this chapter. It just sets things up for later, but I hope you liked it none the less. **

**Thanks!**


	20. Potter's possession

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XX: Potter's possession **

'I couldn't wake him up,' admitted Neville fretfully as he jogged to keep the hurried pace Cassy and Hermione had set. 'He kept screaming and thrashing, but I couldn't wake him.'

The halls were clear of students. The Sun outside had not yet risen, the ground a murky grey from the dim light and old snow. The portraits yawned as they passed, stretching their painted limbs and echoing requests for the time which none of them answered in their determined stride. The time was most likely only a few minutes passed seven, too early for anyone to be willingly out of bed, but Cassy was more alert than she had been in many months. The tiredness had vanished from her eyes the moment she spied Neville fidgeting in a scarlet armchair by the fire. Her feet had hardly touched the decorative mat in the common room when she was already demanding to know if he was all right. It was when he had turned his brown-eyes to her, his cheeks pink and his blond-hair scruffy from sleep, that she knew something was in fact very wrong.

'Ron, Dean, and Seamus all tried to help me, but when he woke he grabbed Ron and said something had happened to his dad,' continued Neville.

Cassy had heard an abridged version of events earlier as Neville wrung his hands by the fire. It had only taken the mention of a vision and the Weasleys retreat to Professor McGonagall's office for Cassy to sprint upstairs, dress, and collect a disorientated Hermione along the way.

'Voldemort's attacked Mr Weasley?' squeaked Hermione. 'Is he all right?'

Neville shrugged hopelessly. 'Harry says he thought he was still alive, but he wasn't really sure. He said he was the snake of something. Mr Weasley was bitten three times, blood everywhere, he said.'

'Oh, no,' breathed Hermione.

'Ginny, Ron, Fred, and George all went to Dumbledore's office and they didn't come back. I waited up in case they did,' said Neville.

Cassy halted suddenly and knocked heavily on Professor McGonagall's office door. She ignored the groans of the portraits nearby and knocked again. There was no reply. With pursed lips, she shot off in the opposite direction.

'Where are you going?' called Neville as he and Hermione chased after her.

'If Professor McGonagall is not in, then the next call is to the Headmaster, surely,' reasoned Cassy.

Up a flight of stairs and along to the Headmaster's tower, there was no slowing of pace. If they had not returned, it was obvious something had been found and that Harry's vision had been seen to with the uppermost severity. Mr Weasley must have been on shift for the Order, but where was another question entirely that she hoped to learn as quickly as possible. Podmore's arrest in the Ministry, beside a locked door no less, had played on her mind for some time. Doors at the Ministry were not commonly locked. Lucius Malfoy had once said it was for ease of communication; the departments were to flow and cooperate. If one was locked, it meant whatever was behind it was not meant for civilian eyes and Cassy could not help but find it to suspicious that Podmore should be lured there as easily as Ron suggested if the Order had not had interest in what was on the other side. If Mr Weasley was attacked when in the Ministry, especially so early in the morning, then Cassy knew something was there. It might even be the weapon her father had spoken of.

Between the three of them, they fired two-dozen brands of sweet names at the gargoyle that guarded Professor Dumbledore's office. It took time, but eventually it shifted backwards and revealed the winding stone staircase. With a clatter of eager footsteps and a demanding knock of the door, the ever placid voice of the headmaster called them to enter, a knowing smile on his aged lips.

'Good morning,' he greeted them, his hands linked on top of his desk.

Professor McGonagall sat in front and also appeared unsurprised by their sudden entrance.

'Good morning,' responded Cassy, Neville, and Hermione with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

'I understand by now you have all heard what happened early this morning?' asked Professor Dumbledore. 'Harry and the Weasleys have gone to visit Arthur in the hospital and will not return until the holidays are over, if that is what you are here to ask.'

'Is he okay then? Mr Weasley?' sighed Neville in relief.

'He is alive,' was all he replied.

'When can we go and see him?' asked Hermione.

'Not until the end of term now. I think it would be best for all to give the Weasley's some time with their loved one to manage together as a family. Dare I say if I were to send you all home, there would be some questions asked,' he said.

'How is Harry? His visions always unnerve him,' asked Cassy. Her voice ripped through the easing atmosphere, tearing it apart and setting her friends back on edge quickly. There was a change in the faces of their two professors, a sharpness in their eyes that matched Cassy's own.

Professor Dumbledore thatched his fingers together and rested his chin on top. He was silent for a moment, simply staring. 'Do you know how often these dreams occur?'

Cassy was also silent for a time before she tilted her head to one side and said, 'He saw flashes of Voldemort's movements last year. This year he had mainly just seen a corridor, one with many locked doors, he mentions then every one to two weeks, sometimes more frequently lately. They make his scar hurt, but you would not know that, Professor, because you are incapable of even looking at him let alone listening.'

'Miss Black!' screeched Professor McGonagall. 'Twenty-points from Gryffindor for such blatant disrespect!'

Neville and Hermione had gasped too, but Cassy did not pay attention to them. She was focused on the Headmaster.

'Harry was taken by a madman, he saw a friend killed and he was almost murdered. The most anyone tried to do for him was lock him away in the same hell he has been in for the last fourteen-years. Now he sees a snake killing his friends' father and if it was anything else I honestly believe he would not have told you about it; he is losing faith in your trust in him, Professor, and he needs you to believe him more than anyone,' said Cassy coolly.

Professor McGonagall looked as though she was about to deduct more points, perhaps even give a detention, but Professor Dumbledore spoke first.

'This is not the first time you have reprimanded me, Miss Black. Just as passionate as last time and no less loyal in your reasoning, but I assure you I do what I believe is best for Harry. Forgive me, I am an old man, my ways can seem questionable, maybe. Yet, I have never meant to make Harry doubt himself and I will act accordingly. Rest assured, Miss Black, that I intend to ensure you do not find need to scold me again so soon,' he said. There was almost a hint of sadness, regret, perhaps, in his tone. His words were solemn and thoughtful, as if it was something he had all ready realised himself.

Cassy would say it again and again until he actually grasped the idea that his behaviour needed to change.

'Be that as it may, Headmaster, it is hardly appropriate for a student to speak to you in such a manner,' cried Professor McGonagall.

'Professor,' interrupted Cassy again. 'Can these visions of his go both ways?'

There was a deafening silence. For all the things she had said that day, it seemed that that was the most outrageous of them all. No one moved or said a word for a long time, until Professor Dumbledore shifted in his seat and turned to Professor McGonagall.

'I think emotions are high today, that is all. Perhaps it is time for breakfast?' he offered.

Well aware that she deserved a detention, Cassy took the opportunity to slip from the room with Neville and Hermione before anyone changed their minds. Neville and Hermione stared at her, aghast, all the way to the hall, but she did not spare the time to feel guilty for her snide comments. They were all true and until she saw him taking a more proactive part in Harry's school life then she would not stop thinking such things either; something was clearly wrong.

'Yes, yes,' she said as she batted away Hermione's concern. 'I wish for you both to think about something though. Voldemort has targeted Harry since he was one-years-old. He lured him into the Chamber of Secrets at twelve to kill him. He tried to murder him last summer. Harry can see into Voldemort's mind. He feels what he feels and he can see what he sees. Why is that?'

The noise of the Great Hall roared around them and no one seemed to notice the three Gryffindors huddled at the far end of the table. Hermione shook her head fiercely.

'I don't know what you're suggesting, Cassy – ' she began.

'Yes, you do,' interjected Cassy. 'You know exactly what I mean. Why is Voldemort targeting him and why are Harry and he connected so?'

'A grudge?' offered Neville.

'Harry did stop him at the height of his power. It's perfectly plausible someone like Voldemort would want revenge!' insisted Hermione.

'Harry did tell us the reason he is a Parselmouth is because V-Voldemort transferred some of his powers to him as a baby accidentally. Isn't that what he told us Dumbledore said in second year?' continued Neville.

Cassy drew back from them, gently shaking her head. It was more than that. It had to be more than that, because a transfer of power would not create a mental connection, not one that allowed Harry to feel anger, or happiness when Voldemort did. He should not be able to see inside his head at all and certainly not at such a distance. Professor Dumbledore's silence had said a lot about her theory and she reckoned the question was the only reason she did not have detention; she had startled him and raised possibilities he did not want them to consider.

'I will be in the library at lunch,' said Cassy. 'Do not wait for me.'

With classes rushing to get the last pieces of work completed on time, there was no asking after Harry or Ron. The teachers each glazed over their seats and continued with their plans before any excuse arose for the class' attention to drift away too soon in the swelling eagerness of the holidays. Professor McGonagall was determined for them to work until the last minute of the period and turned her eagle-eyed stare to anyone who dared begin packing away with five minutes to go. She was markedly cooler towards Cassy than she had been before, but Cassy chose to stay silent and out of the way lest she really did receive detention.

When finally allowed to exit to the library, Cassy found, as she had expected, nothing of any real use in the hour break. There were so many places to begin and most theories on magical connections were old tales dredged from the bottom of a child's fantasy on soulmates and heartlines, rather than anything of attempted-murder induced ties. She shuddered at the thought of Harry and the Dark Lord being soulmates – an alarming and disgruntling thought she would have to tell him when she saw him later – and left the library none the wiser than when she entered.

She did not try again after dinner and instead found herself following Luna up the winding staircase to the top of the Astronomy Tower, knitted blankets bundled in their arms and a jar of fire Hermione had handed to them tucked somewhere in there too. Yesterday evening, Luna had invited Cassy to stargaze with her, having heard of her hobby plight from Neville and although Cassy had no great inspiration from the suggestion she agreed. It had been a long time since Cassy had just sat with Luna. Not for many months had the two had the opportunity to talk freely by themselves, although Cassy was unsure that Luna ever really censored herself anyway.

They set out the blankets on the top of the tower. The Marauder's Map was pinned beneath the jar of fire and Luna flopped down roughly onto her back.

'This is what you do for fun?' asked Cassy curiously.

'Sometimes,' answered Luna. 'I usually bring something up here to do while I watch the skies, like sewing, or my beads to make jewellery with. I brought this with me today.' She pulled out a little notebook from her coat pocket. 'I like to write my own horoscopes, you see. Sometimes I send them in to Daddy's paper and he publishes them in the back. Next week will be a good week.'

'Do not let the Weasley's hear you say that. They might disagree,' said Cassy grimly.

Luna was quiet for a moment. 'I am sure Mr Weasley will be fine. Harry found him after all. Although, I did hear a story about a man who was bitten by a snake spouted wings and became a dragon once. Dreadfully painful, apparently, but at least Charlie will like him and he would be very useful too.'

'I will be sure to pass that concern on,' said Cassy, not even bothering to pretend to be surprised.

They sat in silence for a time. The sky shone brightly above them, alive with stars and clear of clouds despite the recent snowfall. Several constellations were visible, Orion's Belt as usual, but it was easy enough to pick out the familiar names of her ancestors in the stars above. Their vibrant shine caused the frost on the stones to glisten. The white sheen webbed across the railings and up to fresh icicles that hung from the sheltered roof a distance behind, beautiful, if cold.

'Mr Weasley was the second Weasley I met, you know,' said Luna suddenly. 'I met Percy first. He saw me in a field and thought I was lost when I was six or seven. I wasn't, obviously, I live just over the hill, but he took me back to the house and Mrs Weasley gave me juice and cake. That's where I met Ginny. She was awfully shy back then, she didn't really want to talk to me. I liked them though. I always wondered what it would be like to live with so many brothers.'

'I cannot imagine having seven children,' muttered Cassy.

'I can't imagine you having any,' said Luna, bluntly.

Cassy hummed, not offended at all. 'I would like two, if I were to have children. I always envisioned living my life alone as to enjoy myself as I please, a few close friends perhaps and a lifetime of accomplishment. However, if I were to meet the right person, I would have children, I suppose. Two would be it. That way they can at least socialise with each other.'

Luna nodded and sat up. Her large, protruding eyes stared out into the very distance as her quill moved rapidly with notes.

'If it is right it is right, if not then I do not see much use either. You and I are quite similar, you know,' commented Luna airily.

Cassy avoided putting too much thought into that statement.

'Cho was crying when she got back to the common room yesterday. Michael Corner tried to comfort her, but she said she only wanted to speak to Harry and then burst into more tears.'

Inwardly groaning, Cassy turned to Luna with flat eyes. She said, 'She still loves Cedric though.'

'She told everyone she tried to speak to Harry about Cedric and Harry said he had promised to meet you at the kitchens and couldn't possibly talk to her,' added Luna, turning her cloudy eyes to Cassy. 'It made her cry even more.'

Cassy stared.

'She's convinced the two of you are together.'

'Because Harry was going to meet me instead?' clarified Cassy slowly. When Luna nodded, she sighed heavily. 'It is a good job Harry is not interested in her, or he would have just made a massive mistake.'

What an awful excuse, she thought to herself wistfully. Harry was always a terrible liar and normally utterly tactless too. He and Chang would never have worked out well.

'I think she hates you now,' admitted Luna bluntly.

Cassy closed her eyes. For all the irritation she had felt at the mere sight of the other girl, all she could muster was an honest 'fair enough' in response.

* * *

While everyone trudged through the icy snow, their trunks dragged precariously behind them in a constant threat to unbalance their unsteady feet, Cassy and Hermione pulled in another direction. They waved to Neville and Luna as they dropped out of line and turned down onto the beaten track that lead directly to the village centre, far away from the remote line of the train.

Great billows of impatient smoke reared above the trees from the scarlet engine as they moved further and further from it. Hermione had turned on Cassy the night before. She no longer wanted to go skiing with her parents. She was needed in London and London would be where she went whether Cassy agreed or not. Bemused, Cassy had said she could easily force her from the house of her ancestors, with or without magic, she added, but conceded without a further fight that Hermione could spend the holidays with her. It most likely worked out better anyway, Cassy had told her, because if Hermione was there then there was no plausible manner in which Tonks could whisk her away to spend an awkward dinner with her other estranged relatives. That and Cassy would be grateful for company that would surely not brood all through the season like Harry and her father would, but she left that unsaid.

When the pair reached the road on the very outskirts of the village, Hermione held up her wand. They waited a second and she ducked down to pick Crookshanks' carrier back up just as a triple-decker purple bus popped into sight. It halted suddenly in front of them. A greasy-haired man no older than twenty popped his head out.

'Where to, ladies?' he asked.

'London, please. By Elthorne Park,' said Hermione.

He reeled them off two tickets and brought their luggage on board with a flick of his wand. The bus was mostly empty, with an exception a floor above them, so Cassy and Hermione took seats at the far end of the vehicle with a pole between them for security from the sudden jolting stops.

'Tonks' won't mind you going home this way, will she?' whispered Hermione.

Cassy had received instructions through Professor McGonagall that morning to remain with Neville for the next few days until Tonks' had sorted through Order work from Mr Weasley's recent incident. The Ministry was searching for what had attacked him with vigour, determined it was not really a snake bite and an enquiry had been launched, although they were doing their best to minimalize publicity. There was no word or even a hint of where Harry and the Weasleys were, but Cassy suspected it would be with her father. He was the closest householder to St. Mungo's and he certainly had the room.

She shook her head. 'She can be angry. What will she do?'

'I don't want her to think that I've lead you astray,' said Hermione.

Cassy turned, startled, before she chortled loudly.

'It wasn't a joke! I don't want her angry with me for dragging you half way across London.'

'Hermione, there are not many things I think you could make me do if I did not want to do them and this is certainly one of them.' Cassy gave her an amused but pointed stare. 'I do not want to go to Neville's. I want to be with everyone. Besides, Tonks may be an Auror, but she is very relaxed. I have only seen her angry at me once before.'

'What was that for?' asked Hermione curiously.

'For not doing as she had asked and wandering through London,' said Cassy.

There was a pause.

'_What?'_ hissed Hermione.

Cassy grinned at her. 'I had a curfew that time!'

'Fine,' huffed Hermione as she rolled her eyes. 'If she asks, this was your idea.'

'Gladly noted,' said Cassy.

It was only a matter of minutes before the bus pulled to a stop. The pair lurched and quickly gathered their belongings. The bus shot away again and the two checked around them for anyone who looked remotely suspicious, but seeing no one they began the short journey to Grimmauld Place only two streets over. They peered around again as Cassy rang the heavy serpent knocker on the faded door. The house was as unwelcoming as it had been in the summer with the exception of the cleaned windows and seemingly freshly washed curtains.

There was a bustling of noise from within and a bundle of curly red-hair poked out of the crack.

'Girls!' cried Mrs Weasley. 'I wasn't expecting you! Come in.'

'Good morning, Mrs Weasley,' greeted Cassy while her face was squashed into the older woman's shoulder in a fierce hug. 'How is Mr Weasley?'

Mrs Weasley's face dropped a little bit, yet her smile continued. She nodded and hugged Hermione first before answering. 'He's okay. He is not in any immediate danger, thank Merlin, but it was touch and go for a bit. He seems in good spirits. He's been people-watching all morning.'

'That's great,' beamed Hermione.

Mrs Weasley nodded happily. 'Go upstairs, I'll make you some sandwiches. I'll bring some extra for Harry, he's been looking ill…' Her face dropped entirely.

'Why?' demanded Cassy.

'Because he's a pillock,' came a voice from the floor above.

Cassy craned her neck to see Ron leant over the banisters. Mrs Weasley took the opportunity to hurry back down to the kitchen.

'What has he done?' asked Cassy warily.

'He's only been avoiding everyone all morning. How'd you two get back so quickly anyway?'

'The Knight Bus,' said Hermione.

'You took the Knight Bus _here_?' asked Ron incredulously.

'Yes, Ron, we're completely stupid,' sassed Hermione.

'Back onto topic, why has he been avoiding you?' questioned Cassy.

Ron shrugged. 'He seems to think we hate him or something because he could see Dad's attack. We overheard Moody talking to Mum. He said Harry might have been… possessed.'

'Rubbish,' dismissed Hermione immediately.

Cassy was all ready half way up the staircase with a deep frown on her face by the time Ron had agreed with her. Mrs Weasley called that lunch was ready, but she did not stop. Yet before she could fling open the bedroom door, he sprung from the room. They collided harshly and Cassy sprawled back onto the ground. Her hand flew to her nose, pinching the bridge where Harry's chin had hit.

'Cassy?' he said breathlessly.

His hair was messier than normal, as though he had ran his hands through it a hundred times and his eyes were frantic and wide.

'Are you all right?' he said before she had a chance to ask him the same thing. He pulled her to her feet and she frowned at him.

'Where were you going?' she asked flatly.

'What?' he said.

She scowled and turned her eyes to the fallen trunk and Hedwig's sideways cage. His eyes followed hers and he shook his head fiercely.

'You don't understand.'

Harshly, she shoved him back into the room and locked the door.

'You saved somebody's life, so for once can you not find fault in yourself?' she growled.

'What?' he demanded. 'You didn't hear what Moody said. I could be being possessed by Voldemort! I have to get out, no one here is safe!'

'Being noble will not help anything, Potter. People will look for you and you can be assured that there are many people who will risk their lives for you if even a whisper of you being missing sounds. So sit still and let's think about this for a moment,' hissed Cassy.

She knew she should not be so angry, but she could not fathom where Harry expected himself to go. It was not like it would be if she left suddenly. Cassy knew she would be able to fend for herself, she knew enough about where to and where not to go in the Wizarding community to stay hidden and stay safe for at least a few nights, but Harry knew literally nothing outside of Hogwarts. If he used magic there would be no concessions this time and he was polarised by the public as a saviour or a demon and easily recognisable to top the list off. She had a sinking feeling about Voldemort and Harry. Something was not right, not _normal_, about their rivalry and Cassy would not risk it, hypothesis or not.

'She's right, you know. Being noble will not get you very far.'

Cassy and Harry's heads jerked to the fireplace. The old painting of Nigellus Black was back, stroking his beard.

Harry growled at him.

'I have a message from Dumbledore,' he said lazily. 'He wants you to stay where you are.'

'That's it? He said nothing else?' asked Harry is disbelief.

'Nothing whatsoever, but if I were you,' he drawled as he pointed at Cassy, 'I would listen to that one.'

With that, Nigellus was gone again.

Harry booted his trunk and dropped onto the closest bed, his face in his hands. Cassy watched him for a moment, before she shook her head.

'You have not been acting oddly. The wards would surely stop you apparating away and everyone saw you in bed that night. There was no way you were anywhere but in Hogwarts. This was another vision, not a possession,' she said softly.

'Then why won't Dumbledore look at me?' he queried gently.

Cassy took a seat beside him. 'I think if you wanted to know about possible possession, you should have spoken to Ginny. She would have been able to tell you immediately.'

Harry's shoulders slumped.

'As for Professor Dumbledore, I think he does not want to speak to you because he knows you will have questions about last summer and I think he does not wish to involve you any deeper than you all ready are. I think he does care and perhaps that is the problem,' she continued. 'Not that he can really avoid it anymore.'

'What do you mean?' asked Harry.

'You saved Mr Weasley's life. No one should have known he was there. If Voldemort does become aware of whatever it is going on in that head of yours, then it will be dangerous if it _can _go both ways. It needs to be stopped before he notices, if he has not all ready,' she admitted and tapped his scar lightly with her finger. 'However, it worked in our favour this time, so be happy that Mr Weasley is alive and not so hard on yourself for once.'

Harry sighed in relief and a joyous smile broke out across his face.

'Thanks,' he said.

'You are such a hypocrite with your advice, you know. If you try and isolate yourself again, I will smack you,' criticised Cassy, only half-jesting.

'I must have left you to make up some excuses for me when we left. I guess you were on Pink Alert all day,' he said.

'Professor Umbridge may have asked us once or ten times where you had gone,' Cassy laughed.

'It'll be the code for everything we should absolutely avoid in our lives,' he said and Cassy nodded eagerly.

Sometime later, the two went downstairs. Harry avoided eye-contact with everyone, even after Mrs Weasley gave him an encouraging smile. Ginny wasted no time scolding him, while Ron hovered behind her with the odd comment and hum of agreement, leaving Hermione to lessen the Weasley children's wrath with her sympathetic pats. Leaving Harry to the hole he dug himself, Cassy turned her attention to her father, who was all ready watching her owlishly.

'I thought you were going to be at Neville's until tomorrow?' he asked.

'Well, I decided against it and made my own way here. Although, I do seem to have picked up a stray along the way,' she said, jerking her head towards Hermione.

Sirius laughed. 'It saves Tonks a trip, I suppose. Now that you are here, you can help me put these hats and beards on the house-elf heads on the walls. Festivities and what not.'

Cassy stared and he stared back with undeterred seriousness. Slowly, a grin broke out onto both their faces and they burst into boisterous laughter. She shook her head.

'I might just hand the tinsel on the cabinets instead, if you don't mind.'

'I do mind,' he said. 'What good are the heads if they don't play the part?'

'You two are quite morbid,' muttered Ginny as she passed.

With breakfast having not long since passed for her, Cassy found herself helping her father decorate anyway. She shifted through the boxes in the uppermost landing, ignoring the spiders that fled. Her father whistled to himself merrily, oblivious to the glances his daughter had sneaked as she bit her lip in thought.

'Father,' she said suddenly, 'may I ask you a question?'

'You just did,' he said. He dropped the decorations and threw his hands up at her sideways glare. 'Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.'

'I do not mean to pry, but did my mother have any family?' she said it calmly, but immediately, not leaving any chance for her mind to convince her it was a terrible idea.

For a while, there was no sound. He watched her, his eyes unusually sharp and his face slack, void of any emotion. Then, in a way Cassy had not seen before, he straightened and rose to his full height, shoulders back and head high, as if observing her for the first time. It was reminiscent of Alphard or Lucius Malfoy, unyielding, and – if Cassy was honest – defensive.

'Yes,' he said curtly. 'A younger sister of about four years - two years younger than myself, her parents too.'

Cassy did not know if that meant her grandparents were still alive, but there was a strong possibility she still had an aunt.

'What are their names?' she asked carefully.

'Phil and Tess Lowe. Her sister was called Jessica. Why?'

'They live in London?' she assumed.

'Yes. Why?' His voice was sharper this time and Cassy busied herself collecting tinsel.

'I was just wondering. No one wishes to tell me about them.'

She did not look back at him and instead strode back down the stairs with the streams of colour bundled in her arms. He did not call her back, or spare her a second glance as he fiddled with the tiny conjured hats on the wrinkled, severed heads of their past servants. Fred and George were busy angling the tree to hide the branch they had accidentally set on fire and laughed at their mother as her nose scrunched at the smell.

'Has someone got the fire going all ready?'

Eventually, Cassy breathed deeply and rose from her seat on the stairs. She lingered beside her father for a moment. He showed no sign of acknowledging her. With her head inclined and her voice low, she said, 'I did not mean to be abrupt. I am just curious about them. I am sorry if I upset you.'

Sirius said nothing and Cassy turned to move away. Suddenly, he patted her shoulder heavily.

'If I had put more thought into my actions that night… you would have grown up knowing them. They are good people, Cassy, and I hope one day, if they are still alive, that you can meet them. I should have left that night, taken Harry and gone home instead of leaving you there like I did. I know it must not have been easy for you to grow up without a father, mine might as well not have been there the moment I expressed Muggle sympathies, my mother was absent as long as I can remember.'

'Don't worry about it,' said Cassy, but Sirius shook his head.

'One of us needs to worry. I can see you are emotionally stunted from a mile away,' he said nonchalantly.

Cassy blinked and then scowled. 'Oy.'

Sirius grinned. 'I can't say I am surprised. Alphard was not exactly emotionally liberal – and don't scowl. You look like Regulas when you do.'

'Better than looking like you. You snarl like a dog.'

'Part of my charm!'

* * *

When Tonks had discovered Cassy had made her own way to Grimmauld Place, and had brought a friend none-the-less, she was actually not surprised in the least. She sighed heavily and clouted Cassy lightly, but made no other remark. Her bright pink hair did not waver to red, so she assumed there were no bitter feelings. She did, however, mumble something to Sirius that had him sniggering as they glanced at her sneakily.

Hermione had a letter back from her parents by the evening. They were disappointed, she said, but they understood her reasoning, even if it had been a lie. She had told them she needed to revise for her exams and they had been instructed to if they wanted the best grades; her parents did not seem surprised by her decision at all. As she read out her letter at the table, Mrs Weasley turned expectantly to Ron and asked him if he had begun his revision yet. He stared in horror and Harry tried to slink beneath the table to avoid having the same motherly expectation passed to him.

There was still a tenseness in the air, even as the Weasleys laughed and ate. There was an unmistakable sense that something was missing and consumed the space at the back of their minds. Mr Weasley might be alive, but he was not forgotten even as spirits soared with good songs and food.

Cassy turned her own attention that night to her own family. She had turned to Tonks at the table and muttered in her ear. It was not until quite late into the night that Tonks knocked on her door and dropped a heavy paper book onto her bed with a questioning eyebrow. Cassy mulled through the pages, pencil in hand as she read through the seemingly endless list on the wafer thin paper.

The door banged open.

'Sorry, dear!' said Mrs Weasley in a loud whisper. 'I didn't mean to startle you. I was wondering if Ginny was in here. I can't seem to find her.'

Cassy's shoulders slumped back down and she tried to flatten out the crumpled pages. One hand rested across the page, obscuring the tiny words. 'The last time I saw her she was with Fred and George.'

Mrs Weasley sighed. 'Thank-you, dear. Goodnight.'

When the door shut, Cassy smoothed out the page the best she could. A short line of curling script was quickly copied onto a scrap piece of parchment and the book was put far out of sight.

* * *

**I don't have much to say about this chapter. The next one introduces some new things and is mostly an original chapter and chapter 23 is a pretty big one too, so there are some things I hope you find interesting coming up. I realised this year will probably be the longest in the entire series. I have 35 chapters planned and I have begun planning next year now too, which is only thirty in the book, but because Cassy cannot see all of those events it will most likely be a few less. These chapters are quite long now and I hope it doesn't look like I'm dragging it out; there's just a lot to fit in with all the plots going on this year as it is without adding my own. **

**Hope you like it and thanks for all the reviews last chapter.**

**Thanks!**


	21. Christmas is for family

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXI: Christmas is for family**

Christmas Eve was a busy affair. Not only did it house the house's temporary occupants, but Remus and Tonks and even Neville and his Grandmother. They arrived just after breakfast and the kitchen burst into chaos with the sight of the fat turkey Mrs Longbottom brought with her.

'As promised,' she said and sat the magnificent bird on the table. 'It's fortunate this house has two ovens for such parties. I can see they made short work of breakfast!'

Mrs Weasley cast an appraising stare over the littered table. She cleared it with a wave of her wand, too high-spirited to complain.

As the bodies fought to find space along the table, Neville found himself wedged beside Cassy, who held a hand-mirror over her shoulder. She twisted it to find the perfect angle, but he could not work out what it was she was looking at. It was not angled clearly enough for her face and unless she was inspecting her ear, he had no idea what it was she was trying to achieve. After several moments of watching her face flit with thought, he finally asked her.

She did not turn to him and hummed. 'Testing a theory.'

Neville stood immediately. 'I will leave you to that then.'

She laughed softly to herself at his retreating back. With her attention focused back on the mirror, she angled it back to the stacked boxes at the far side of the room. Her wand was held in her hand beneath the table. Her eyes narrowed and the stack collapsed, spilling ancient papers across the floor in a deafening crash.

'Boys!' cried Mrs Weasley to Fred and George, who had been standing closest.

The mirror was stuffed under the table.

'We didn't touch them!' they denied simultaneously.

'Pick it all up now,' commanded their mother.

No one noticed Cassy's smug smirk. Her theory was correct. One did not need a direct line of sight to cast successful spells. As long as she knew the vicinity, the wand movements minimally affected the direction of the cast. It was all intent. Now all she needed to do was work on hiding the mirror more effectively and learning to cast at objects she knew were around her yet could not see. Not only would she need to work on finer control, but her magical and spacial awareness.

I could have fun with this, she thought, let's see how much I can misdirect others.

Pleased with her plan to test out her prowess by pretending not to know anything of the soon to be magical mishaps across the school, she turned her attention to Sirius and Tonks, who had begun to drown out everything else with their loud, tuneless singing. Fred and George did not take long to join in and the day was passed by playing games and eating more sweets and cake than anyone should have. Although Mrs Weasley was unimpressed with the miniature Umbridge model Fred pulled from his pocket at lunch, Cassy had never seen Remus laugh so hard. The figure cursed and screeched like the woman herself until Harry had had enough and buried her deep in the centre of the yule log. More howls of laughter echoed through the house and even Mrs Weasley turned to hide her smile.

Remus laughed so hard he doubled over, nestling his head in Tonks' shoulder. She turned to Cassy, shooting her a quick wink and a thumbs up between her own giggles. Her hair was white and red like the sugar canes that lined the fireplace.

Ron turned to Cassy, eager to see if she had heard his joke. She smiled at him, but it dropped from her lips the moment he turned away again. A heavy weight had set in her heart. She wanted to be happy, she had tried to smile and drown out the ache with cake and laughter, yet its firm hand remained around her heart, squeezing tightly to fuel the flood of guilt that ran through her veins with every tested smile. It was her first Christmas without Alphard.

She pushed it aside again and again with jovial games and mindless chatter. It was not until the sun began to set low in the winter sky that she let herself be pulled from the seasonal cheer. From across the room, she caught Tonks' eye and rose with a wave of her hand, allowing herself to lose the hand of Poker Fred and George had taught them to play. She grimaced slightly at Neville, a purposeful slip that he undoubtedly understood. His face became solemn and he offered her a small smile. With any luck, he would deter anyone from trying to enter her room later.

Silently, her long, woollen coat was retrieved from her room along with her best winter shoes. As she pulled on her knitted hat and gloves, she made sure to grab a scrap of paper from the desk. It was stuffed deep within her pocket by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs. Tonks was waiting with her own winter gear; she nodded in a wordless question that Cassy was ready to leave and she nodded back.

Everyone else was in the drawing room when the two popped out of existence.

A sharp chill assaulted Cassy's face the moment the world stopped turning. A thin layer of snow crunched as the pair shifted and eyed the surrounding thicket of trees. There was no further sound. Tonks seemed content that no one was watching them and she ushered Cassy from the trees and onto the dimly lit street. The houses on the opposite side were all semi-detached, a sort of well-to-do three bedroomed working-class houses with driveways and fair sized gardens. The type with swing sets for young children and sheds filled with rusted tools and packed in bicycles that the youths who used to live there had long since outgrown.

'Where now?' asked Tonks. White steam twisted from her mouth as she spoke, her coat hugged tightly around her chest.

Cassy did not need to look at the paper in her pocket to know the address. 'Ninety-one.'

Slowly, with Tonks peering over her shoulder from time to time, they sauntered up the road. It did not feel as leisurely to Cassy as it looked. One hand was wrapped around her wand in her pocket as Tonks had instructed while the other fingered the edge of the very reason she was there.

Strings of lights hung down the window from within flashing red and green, tinsel was wrapped around the collection of winter ornaments on the windowsill. Light of a television flashed from around the edge of the closed curtains and a bright gold star was visible at the seam where they had not been drawn quite far enough across.

Cassy stared at the house's green door. A gleaming '91' hung above an ornate knocker. Her eyes flicked back to the window as a tall figure passed by the crack. Her breath caught for a moment.

Slowly, she pulled the card from her pocket. The red envelope turned in her hands for a minute, before she stepped up to the door. Laughter sounded faint from within. Suddenly, the entire idea seemed stupid. Here, on Christmas Eve of all times, Cassy was stood outside of her mother's family home, card in hand to wish them a happy holiday. She had not seen them for sixteen-years, unable to remember the slightest detail of them. Yet, she steeled herself and slipped the card through the letter box. Breathing out deeply, she turned to Tonks at the end of the driveway and she smiled softly back at her.

Cassy wanted to see their reactions and yet felt complete relief as she retreated down the driveway.

The card she had left was very simple. It read:

_Dear Lowe family,_

_May Christmas see your family happy and giving and may your New Year bring success._

_Best wishes,_

_Cassy Black_

She hated the way it read. Years of trained civility had stunted her ability to simply write a short and heartfelt message. It seemed heartless, if not a bit desperate. Such as message would not even be sent to the most estranged of her contacts, but after scowling at the card for the better part of two hours the night before, she had finally scrawled down something.

While frowning to herself, Cassy went to cross the road when a voice called suddenly. Mid-way across the road, she turned.

People had piled into the streets. An older couple were at the front, a young woman was close behind with a blond boy on her hip and a dark-haired girl by her side. The older woman was short, no taller than Cassy with wide brown-eyes and signs of beauty that had faded but not disappeared with age. The woman behind her resembled her heavily, if an inch taller with blonde hair like the child in her arms. It was the man who really caught Cassy's attention. He was tall, dwarfing the two women, with bronze framed glasses perched on the end of his long nose. He had dark blue eyes – Cassy's eyes.

Before Cassy had a chance to filter through the information, Tonks shoved a hand roughly into her back.

'Speak to them!' she hissed, but Cassy shook her head. She had not anticipated that they would hear the letterbox over their jovial laughter, let alone notice in time to give chase.

The silence stretched on until the elderly woman took a step forward. Had Cassy been weaker, she might have taken a step back. Instead, she took a step forward and met her half-way. The woman waved her forward onto the path before Cassy had a chance to move further despite her intentions to, seemingly eager to have her out the road.

Less than a foot away, Cassy was certain she got her height from her mother's side. The woman's eyes were brown and crinkled as she raked them over Cassy frantically, as though not believing she was really there, or perhaps fearing she would disappear before she had a chance to get a proper look. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and Cassy could only stare in alarm. She did not cope well with emotional displays from close friends much better than she had at eleven, let alone the sight of her weeping, estranged grandmother.

Tess' breath hitched. 'You look so much like Jane.'

Cassy cleared her throat. Her eyes darted quickly to the side and down before she met Tess' gaze again. 'Most people say I look like my father.' She tried to offer a small smile to convince her she was at ease, but it seemed to work too well because Tess lunged forward and wrapped her arms around her in a fierce embrace.

'I always wondered – I always wondered if those eyes would change as you grew, but no. They're still like Jane's, like Phil's.' Tess' voice was muffled from her head being burrowed so deeply into Cassy's shoulder. 'They're still large and blue, just like they were.'

She took the moment to eye Phil and the blonde woman, Jessica perhaps, before she pulled out of the embrace. The closeness was too much. She did not know what to do. With a shake of her head, Cassy apologised. 'I had not meant for you to hear me. I just wanted to see where you lived and who you were. I was unsure if… if you wanted to see me.'

Tess gripped Cassy's arms tightly and barked, 'You are my granddaughter! Of course you are welcome, you fool! Where is your father?'

'I live with my cousin when not at school. My father is usually away – with work,' lied Cassy.

Tess clicked her tongue and eyed Tonks from head to toe.

'Does he still get himself into trouble?' she asked. 'When I first met him he was always in a spot of bother, particularly because he was dating my rebellious child! When I last saw him, well, when I last saw him he came to our door to collect you, apologising for trying to save your mum and get her the help she needed…'

'It's good to know he's actually settled down and got himself a proper job,' said Phil, who had moved to put a hand on his wife's shoulder. It was impossible not to notice the same warmth in his eyes as his wife had as he gazed upon Cassy. It was a look of familiarity, of pride even, as though her mere presence had lit a fire inside their hearts that Cassy could not begin to comprehend. It was uncomfortable. She did not know them, but they certainly seemed to think they knew her. It was a different kind of expectation to anything else she had known, it was not critical or evaluating, but content to simply take in everything she did as much as they could and she that made her more wary than anything else. For all they knew she could be anyone, the bringer of a cruel prank on their family with a false card of a child they would never see, or their granddaughter who was merely interested in their money and in trouble with the law. Yet, they did not seem to realise that. They seemed genuinely happy that she was just there.

Her eyes shifted to the people behind her grandparents. She looked over Jessica's face – her aunt's face – then to the two children. The girl seemed curious of her while the boy was busy tying the toggles on Jessica's jumper together clumsily.

'I should introduce you,' said Phil with a smile when he followed Cassy's gaze behind him.

Before he could, Cassy shook her head. 'I should not even be here. It was selfish of me to come, I probably cannot see you again.' She wanted to, of course she did, the events of the last few months made her desperately keen to at least get to know her mother's family even a little bit more, where the desire had never sparked before.

Tess and Phil frowned.

'I don't understand. What do you mean?'

Cassy almost jumped at her voice. For a split second, it sounded like the same one that echoed through her mind with gentle hums and muttered words as she had read the newspaper almost a decade ago. Instead, she looked towards her aunt, who was scowling deeper than anyone else. Although Cassy had not considered her to look much like the mother she remembered, the intense stare had certainly brought through the family resemblance.

Jessica did not seem to appreciate the hesitation. 'What do you mean you won't be back? What was the point in this?'

'Jessie,' began Tess.

'No!' protested Jessica loudly. 'I rang Sirius every week for months to see how you were. Then one day he didn't answer me. I went to his flat to find a notice that it was for sale pinned to the front of it and no sign of him! You were both just gone and now you're suddenly here and you can't stay?'

Tonks had moved forward as Jessica's voice rose with every word. Her wand hung loosely at her side and her eyes darted to each window as the curtains began to flutter with the curious gazes of the neighbours.

'I'm sorry,' said Cassy frankly. 'Really, I am, but my father does not even know I am here. There is a lot that I cannot explain, but I am different and things the people like me are doing right now means it is not safe for me to contact you too much. They will not… appreciate the differences between us.'

Phil squared his shoulders. 'There's still a war on then.'

Cassy did not let her surprise show. She supposed she should have suspected they might have known something, but she had not anticipated her father explaining to her mother's parents that there was a madman out to kill and enslave all Muggles. She did not imagine it had inspired much trust, not matter how much they seemed to like him.

Stiffly, Cassy nodded her head just a fraction.

'And that is why your cousin keeps darting her eyes?' asked Tess, her voice dropped to just above a whisper.

Again, Cassy found herself surprised. Her grandmother was observant.

Tess then snorted loudly. 'I don't give a damn if you're different. You would have been raised well here whether we're Puggles or not!'

Cassy ducked her head to hide her laugh. 'Muggles.'

Tess waved her hand flippantly.

'Olivia,' said Jessica suddenly. She nodded to the girl with dark-brown hair. 'My eldest is called Olivia and my son is Alex.'

'I'm seven. Alex is three,' said Olivia tartly.

Cassy smiled at her. 'It's nice to meet you.'

Olivia did not say anything in return and continued to inspect her critically, as though evaluating her entire worth with her large brown-eyes.

For a moment, Cassy wondered where their father was, but she pushed it aside as Olivia opened her mouth once more, finally having deemed Cassy worthy of a conversation.

'Do you remember Auntie Jane? How old are you? What does Uncle Sirius do for a job?' she fired out all at once and Cassy almost howled with laughter at 'Uncle Sirius'. None of the Lowe's seemed the least bit bothered by the title.

'I am sixteen,' answered Cassy.

'Almost an adult,' breathed Tess.

'One more year,' agreed Cassy.

When Phil frowned, Cassy clarified that 'her kind' came of age a year earlier. He told her she was lucky and Olivia nodded along, although she was clearly uncertain of what made Cassy so special. She muttered that she could not wait to attend university and Jessica smiled. Olivia was always eager to learn. She had already been moved up a year in school.

An eagerness to get to know them washed over Cassy forcefully, but she knew she could not stay. They had been in the street for some time now and the neighbour kept poking his head between the curtains to check if they were still there, any longer and she feared he would come and enquire. Tonks had begun to grow uneasy too and soon Cassy forced herself to say good-bye to her relatives. Tess squashed her in a hug more bone-shattering that any Mrs Weasley had ever given her and Phil grimaced in sympathy before giving his own. Jessica even gave Alex to her mother to hold so she could hug her too.

It was only then that Phil took Cassy's arms in his hands and stared down at her seriously.

'Take care of yourself,' he said. She could see the clear implications in his words. He wanted her to stay out of the war that had cost him his daughter, no matter how indirectly, but Cassy could not promise that. Instead, she smiled.

'I will try,' she said and that seemed to placate him.

'Try and keep in touch!' demanded Tess. 'And come back after school. I want to show you off to the neighbours.'

Cassy laughed and began to step back towards Tonks. The Lowe's each smiled and even Alex offered her a clumsy wave.

* * *

When Cassy returned to Grimmauld Place, she sneaked to her room silently. Laughter and songs from the radio still echoed through the house, although it was clear the night was winding to an end. She could not shake the thought of her relatives from her mind and briefly she considered if she would mention her trip to Sirius the next day, but dismissed it quickly. He was cheerful for once. She did not want to risk weighing down his spirits by once again dragging old memories into his mind.

There was still lingering guilt in her heart that she had chosen the beginning of a war to contact them. It was not as though she reasonably could have done so before, yet she felt bad for it all the same. They could be in danger if anyone were to know she contacted them. With any luck, she hoped, no one would even know of them, their names or where to find them. It seemed cruel now though to never send a letter when they had been so overjoyed to see her. No harm had been done yet, she reminded herself, and besides, it was almost uplifting to know she was more like her mother than just her eyes. Where everyone saw Sirius, they saw Jane and it was oddly pleasant although she could not quite place why.

Cassy stayed up late that night, highlighting and scribbling over old newspaper articles Plum had collected for her. Colourful phrases littered the pages, the margins filled with ideas and comments. Question marks and squiggles that could only mean something to her were on every page and over every article. Stacks of them sat beside her bed and her elf sat on the floor beside them, patching a hole in the dress she had made herself some time ago. It was time-consuming work, but nothing Cassy had not intended to do for some time now. She had a plan and it kept her awake late into the night. She was not even close to completion when she finally slipped into sleep.

When she awoke the next morning, she found herself in a surprisingly good mood despite the lack of sleep. Fred had hammered on her door, demanding she join them in the living room already. She heard him move to Harry and Ron's to demand the same.

Opening presents in front of the entire Weasley family were somewhat of a strange, if slightly awkward, affair. Mrs Weasley treated Cassy, Harry, and Hermione much like she did her own children and as such wished to see each and every gift they received, forcing them to be opened one person at a time. Sirius had brought Cassy a necklace and earring set, which Mrs Weasley stared at astounded. Sirius pouted back at her and insisted he did have good tastes and Cassy had to agree. Everything he had brought her so far had been delightful, surprisingly so for a man who had spent twelve-years away from society. Harry had given her a pretty watch; Hermione had given her a knitted blanket comprised of many colourful squares which she had made by hand – although Cassy was suspicious that it was to prove that she could knit more than 'woolly bladders'; Neville gifted her a book on complex but useless Potions that thrilled her; a pretty hair comb was from Ginny and Luna had brought her a black jumper with splattered, mottled stars across it that was actually quite tasteful.

Cassy ran her hands over the string of tiny lanterns Tonks had given her curiously and Hermione was keen to explain their appeal in the Muggle world was decoration. While she did, Harry and Ron exchanged wary looks at their speaking homework planners Hermione had given them. Ginny looked thankful for her own knitted blanket, but everyone's face crumpled when Hermione pulled a third out from beneath the sofa.

'It's for Kreacher,' she explained.

Ron could not look more appalled.

'Oh, Sirius!' called Mrs Weasley as she swept away the remains of the wrapping paper. 'I have something for you.' She fumbled at the base of the tree for a moment, before pulling out a flimsy parcel. 'It's not much, just a little thank-you for letting us stay with you. It's meant a lot.'

Sirius turned from his conversation with Tonks to face Mrs Weasley with wide eyes. His eyes remained wide when unwrapping the paper and if possible they widened even further when he unfurled the dark blue jumper.

'I know it's not much,' said Mrs Weasley quickly, 'but I thought seeing as everyone else had one and you had been so good to us in such a difficult time – '

'Molly, it's great. Thank-you,' said Sirius warmly. A wide grin broke out onto his face.

'Put it on!' urged George.

'A Weasley jumper for all!' cheered Fred.

The jumper was pulled over his head and revealed a large, silver 'S' on the front. Each of the teens wore one.

It was not long before the blanket Hermione had so carefully made Kreacher was passed from person to person with no desire to approach the elf. Eventually, it was shoved into Cassy's arms.

'He's your family house-elf, you take it,' said Ginny.

Cassy stared down at the blanket in disdain.

'Oh, for Heaven's sake! No one has to give it to him. I'll take it before lunch,' sighed Hermione.

'I haven't actually seen Kreacher all morning,' said Sirius thoughtfully.

Harry frowned. 'You did tell him to get out last night.'

Cassy's head jerked up at the news.

'Yes, but I meant the room,' said Sirius simply.

'They can interpret your commands as they please though,' added Cassy quickly. 'Plum often does. If you told him to get out, he might have left the house.'

Sirius frowned for a second before he waved his hand flippantly. 'Do not worry about that now. The turkey will be done in a minute, so wash up and head downstairs before Molly shouts at us all for letting it get cold.'

Cassy did not let the thought go during Christmas lunch and it was only when they were excused from the meal did she turn to Harry with a curious frown.

'Why was Kreacher sent away?' she asked.

Harry shrugged. 'He was saying horrible things about Mr Weasley. Sirius had enough and told him to leave.'

'He could have gone anywhere then,' commented Cassy.

They passed Bill and Mrs Weasley, who had since gotten over her sadness at Percy returning his gift and was now trying to interrogate her oldest son about his suspected girlfriend. Idly, Cassy remembered someone mentioning he now worked with Fleur Delacour at the bank. If it was her, that would be a most interesting sight.

'He knows a lot,' said Cassy.

'He can't tell anyone anything, can he?' Although his voice sounded nonchalant, Harry's face tensed in concern.

Cassy, Harry, and Hermione spent much of Christmas afternoon in Cassy's bedroom. Sirius and Remus shared story by the living room fire over glasses of whisky and the Weasley's took a long trip to the hospital to see Mr Weasley and bring him his own collection of presents and a Christmas pudding to share. Cassy and Hermione flicked through her new Potions book, chuckling at the names and their uses, some so absurd that they wondered who had possibly needed that to invent it in the first place. Harry had fell silent some time ago. His new Defence book from Sirius and Remus was still open in his lap, but his eyes were far away. A faint scowl marred his face as he stared at her fireplace distantly. The wooden soldier marched up and down the length of it, his little gun resting on his shoulder as he turned and span to begin his long march again.

* * *

**So, I finally involved the Lowe family! I tried to make sure they all had very normal names, as Harry Potter is filled with weird and wonderful ones. I wanted them to contrast the Dursleys. Despite what happened to Jane because of magic, the Lowes are understanding and enthusiastic. They do not fear Cassy as the Durselys fear Harry. They are just happy she is there and nothing more. Jessica is four years younger than Jane, who is two years older than Sirius. So she is about thirty-three, going on thirty-four at this point, while Jane would have been about thirty-eight. Tess and Phil are in their sixties and the children's ages are listed in the chapter. **

**I intend to explain more about everything before the end of the series! I promise that much. Tess and Jessica are a bit brash, I suppose. That's because a) They are stubborn, and b) they are unsure of how to react to Cassy being there. It's an awkward encounter and I purposefully tried to make it imperfect because I can't imagine everyone being totally at ease with one another and having a big reunion. Perhaps I am a pessimist, but I don't think real-life works like that either. You'll get to see them a little more in the future, but they won't be central parts to the plot anytime soon. A lot of their characterisation will make sense when the story of Cassy's mum is expanded more. **

**One of my shorter chapters of the year so far. I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Thanks!**


	22. The mind's defence

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXII: The mind's defence**

The afternoon was drawing to a close when the door was thrown open and five pairs of feet shuffled into the house. A sharp demand for Fred to pick his coat up by Mrs Weasley woke the portrait of Walburga, and Cassy, Harry, and Hermione each silently agreed to wait for the Weasleys to come to them. They lounged on Cassy's bed in carefully fought for spaces – which was increasingly difficult to win with Harry's far-reaching limbs and willingness to slowly nudge Cassy off the edge – and had no intention of making room for anyone else. Christmas chocolates were spread across the sheets, although Cassy was displeased they appeared to be mostly hers that people had ravaged, and the fire crackled contently in front.

It was not long until the door was opened and Ron threw himself onto Harry's legs with a heavy sigh. There was a low gasp of protest from Harry before Ginny slammed the door shut and leapt onto Ron's back.

Hermione had skilfully rolled out of the danger-zone and curled herself back up, book in hand.

'Ginny, get off,' rasped Ron, winded.

'Don't be such a sissy,' she retorted. 'I don't weigh that much.'

'You do when you jump,' he groaned. Ron wiggled for a moment, mustering the strength to throw his sister to the side with a grunt. He sat up and massaged his ribs. 'Merlin, Harry, your legs are bony.'

'You were on my knees,' objected Harry. 'Besides, I think you broke them.'

'It wasn't me, it was her!'

While the peace had been nice the conversation had eagerly turned to Mr Weasley's health. He was fine, they assured them, battered and bruised still, but undeniably better than last time. He has agreed to have his wounds stitched up instead of treated with balm and while Cassy looked curious, Harry and Hermione chuckled. Their mother had been livid and it was then when the siblings left the ward to avoid their parents arguing that the conversation took a gloomier tone. Ginny and Ron looked at each other uncertainly for a moment and frowns began to fall across everyone's faces before Ginny spoke up.

'We saw Neville,' she said. 'He was visiting his parents.'

Hermione made a small noise of acknowledgment.

'His mum kept handing him sweet wrappers, I don't think she knew who he was,' recalled Ron gently.

'We left after wishing him a merry Christmas. We didn't think he would want us to hang around,' continued Ginny.

'Neville would also not want your pity,' said Cassy suddenly and sternly. 'His parents defied Voldemort and should be remembered for that, not as whatever you might have seen today.'

Her words were unnecessarily sharp, but she did not want them to return to Hogwarts a week later and step gingerly around talk of their holidays because of it. It would only make Neville feel worse, both from the constant reminder of the intimate moment they stumbled upon and the guilt his kind heart would feel at making his friends unwilling to enjoy themselves freely. More than anything though, she did not want him to feel his parents were something to be embarrassed over, because they certainly were not.

No one tried to argue with her and instead undertook a more serious challenge of trying to fit all five of them comfortably on the bed. It was impossible, Cassy decided five minutes later when she was uncomfortably squashed beside Harry and with Ginny across her legs. Ron's lanky limbs stretched up the edge of the bed on her other side and were disconcertingly touching the pillows. She wriggled in attempt to find an angle where Harry's elbow did not dig into her side and that only made things worse when the only comfortable position had her resting against his side entirely, half propped up, and her legs now tangled with Ginny's in an effort to free herself from the mess. Cassy was not sure she particularly enjoyed being bundled with her friends as she was, but as her legs became trapped beneath Ginny's once again she knew she had no choice.

'This bed is not built for so many people,' commented Hermione from Cassy's other side. She appeared to have gotten off remarkably light for a moment until Cassy registered Ron's holey sock was touching her and she was just as trapped by Ginny as she was.

Half-an-hour later, just when Cassy's legs had gone numb, Mrs Weasley appeared in the doorway and paused. She smiled at them as they stared at her expectantly before silently trotting back down the hall again without a word.

Ron shrugged at her antics and a few moments later she was back and a blinding white flash had everyone's eyes blurred and stinging.

'Mum?' demanded Ginny.

There was a faint whirring noise and the camera spat out a postcard-sized photograph. She waved it for a few seconds and beamed at them all. 'It was cute.'

'Mum,' groaned Ron, quickly detaching himself.

'Well… with things how they are you never know how many chances we'll have for photos now,' she said gently. Her eyes softened at the colourful photograph and she placed it in her apron pocket. 'Anyway, dinner is ready!'

By the next morning, the photograph was stuck to a kitchen cupboard door and was impossible to peel off. Cassy could not help but think if Ron had not made such a fuss later that day about it then his mother would probably not have stuck it somewhere so obvious.

Sirius grinned when he saw it, if only to tease Ron and it was fortunate he found humour from somewhere, for he soon began to slow and sober as the weeks drew to an end. It had begun when they started packing away the Christmas decorations. Small and unhappy frowns flickered across his face and the radio blared as loudly as it had in the summer, drowning out silence in any part of the house. Even Mrs Weasley did not have the heart to make him turn it off with all the hospitality he had given her over the holidays. All the cheer Sirius had had at having people stay had turned to bitterness at having to watch them leave. The only reprieve of his slowly darkening mood was New Year when most of the Order celebrated together in a noisy cheer and several rounds of drinks.

As the countdown rang through on the radio, Tonks kissed Remus. No one else seemed to notice as they scrambled around to refill their glasses in time. Cassy's ever-watchful eyes caught them though and for a moment he leant into her. Cassy began to grin, but then Remus' shoulders squared and she winced as he pushed himself backwards to quickly his legs cracked into a side-table, jolting the lamp and sending it crashing to the ground. He muttered something to Tonks that Cassy could not quite read besides 'no' and 'I'm sorry', gesticulating quickly.

The house rang loudly with cries of 'Happy New Year!'.

No amount of alcohol seemed to cheer Tonks up. Cassy did her best to take her cousin's attention away, yet Tonks' hair remained a stark, startling red even as she laughed with them. In fact, it remained red for several days following and if anything seemed to be brighter when she stomped out of the meeting the following Thursday. She did not say good-bye and slammed the door shut behind her. A very loud pop followed.

Cassy could not help but frown at Remus when he emerged sheepishly from the kitchen. It was not his fault he did not have feelings for Tonks, but the least he could do was talk to her about it. Instead, he seemed to spend all of his efforts avoiding her entirely.

A faint muttering echoed through the hall. No one paid it any attention and continued to redress in their winter coats. The dining room door creaked open and Kreacher hobbled out with a pillowcase slung over his shoulder. It bulged, undoubtedly filled with items Sirius had put out to be thrown away. He unsteadily manoeuvred through the throng of legs, then suddenly, as if frozen in place, halted altogether. Slowly his head turned inch by inch, a carefully measured pace as though any quicker might scare away the prey he had just caught sight of. Yet there was no prey to be had, for his gaze settled right over Cassy's shoulder and straight at Harry.

For a moment, Kreacher did not move. His mutterings silent.

He had been doing it more and more lately. He would becoming unusually quiet when Harry was present, void of his delusions and alarmingly content to follow any orders. Sirius seemed to think it was the threat of Kreacher being disowned that had jolted him into good behaviour and although Cassy thought it was certainly something to do with when he had told him to leave, she was much more sceptical that Kreacher was merely seeking good terms. She said nothing, however, and allowed the conspiracies to fall between her, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny.

The four of them had spent the better part of the afternoon building a fix-foot wide and four-foot tall card house when Mrs Weasley popped her head around Cassy's door. It wavered precariously.

'Harry, dear, here you are,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Professor Snape is downstairs and wants to speak with you.'

'Now?' asked Harry incredulously.

'Yes, in the kitchen,' she said, before disappearing again.

Everyone cast each other querying looks. Harry rose none the less and sighed heavily, muttering to himself about the likelihood it was just to give him detentions over the holiday for his poor homework.

It was not long after he vanished that Cassy stood and dusted off her woollen skirt. 'I am going to see if I can listen in.'

'I'll go and get an ear,' said Ginny eagerly.

Hermione stood too and it became very apparent as they stood at the edge of the first floor landing that whatever was being discussed between their friend and professor was very private, for the door had been closed and there was not a sound to be heard. Behind them footsteps raced and Ginny reappeared with the flesh-coloured pipe and Ron at her heels. He extracted a pipe of his own and Ginny handed hers to Hermione.

The noise that echoed up through them was not that of Harry nor Professor Snape, but rather Sirius, who growled lowly with the faint shuffling of feet audible beneath his seething words.

'Say it again, Snivillus, I dare you!'

'I simply meant that it must be torturous to be so useless all the time, coped up here until someone might have use of you,' sounded Professor Snape's nasal tone.

There was no immediate response from Sirius. Instead, it seemed Professor Snape had turned his attention to Harry.

'The Headmaster has asked me to inform you that he wishes for you to learn Occlumency in the upcoming term.'

Cassy's eyebrows shot up. She knew something had to be done about Harry's visions. Too much information was able to pass between Harry and the Dark Lord; it was a liability. Anything Harry knew, surely Voldemort could access. If Harry could accidentally pick up on the emotions and sight of him then it would not be impossible for Voldemort, a trained Legilimens, would easily be able to trace the link back. Control, manipulation, memories, and pain – they were all transferable.

She had considered teaching him herself. She was going to suggest it, although she had only progressed so far with her studies that she held basic confidence in her shield. The presence she had felt in her mind when in Professor Snape's office after the incident with Shandy had given her renewed assurance that it was something she could master alone, yet she was certainly not deluded enough to believe she could face Voldemort.

It made no sense though, how Harry was able to see those things. Although Cassy was thankful Mr Weasley was alive, the thought of the reason being Harry irritated her. The thought pulled at her mind constantly, the nagging question of how and why burnt at the back of her mind every time the incident was mentioned. She thought she had understood the burning when Voldemort was near. It had made sense that with a curse mark upon his skin and the thousand impossibilities Harry proved by simply surviving that night fourteen-years ago explained enough for a long time, but not anymore. Lily Potter's sacrifice saved Harry, yet the question still stood of exactly why she needed to in the first place.

'Dumbledore's going to teach me Occlumency?' asked Harry.

The sneer on Professor Snape's face was practically audible. 'Do you know what Occlumency is, Potter?'

'The defence of the mind,' said Harry.

'Oh, I am surprised,' drawled Professor Snape. 'Then you will know that teaching you such a complex magic would be seen as a waste of the Headmaster's time and so such a tedious task has been passed to me.'

Ginny hissed.

'Why you?' demanded Sirius heatedly.

'It is not a task I wished for, Black,' he replied. 'Potter, if anyone asks, you are seeing me every Monday evening at six for remedial potions. Merlin knows you need them.'

No one had the chance to listen any further, for footsteps sounded from across the hall. Scrambling, everyone wound up the Extendable Ears and hid them out of sight. The living room door opened and Remus stepped out. He paused and stared at the four of them suspiciously.

'What's going on?' he asked playfully.

'Nothing,' said Hermione quickly. 'Harry's been gone a while, so we were waiting for him to come out again.'

Remus did not look entirely convinced, but before he could say anything the front door swung open and voices filled the dark hall. One was unmistakably Mrs Weasley's, high and fussy, although Cassy had been aware she had left; the next was cheerful and low, belonging to Bill; the last of them was breathless yet enthusiastic. Mr Weasley had returned.

Cassy leant over the banister to get a better look at the incoming red-heads. Ginny and Ron raced down the stairs; Walburga grunted behind the curtain. Although now distorted by his two children, it was clear that Mr Weasley had yet to change from his pyjamas. He was pale with dark rings around his eyes, a slight shake to his arms as he brought them up to embrace his family and the widest grin possible on his face.

The noise must have alerted Fred and George, for it was not a moment later that they let out shrieks from the upper level and apparated straight into the hall. Mrs Weasley did not even scold them and instead laughed as they wrestled their way passed Ginny and Ron to get to their father. Once all the hugs were done and he had greeted Cassy, Hermione, and Remus too, Mr Weasley puffed out his chest.

'I had better go and announce myself,' he said cheerfully and hobbled towards the kitchen.

In the excitement of their father's return, it seemed Ginny and Ron had forgotten the fight that had just begun beneath their feet moments ago. Cassy said nothing, knowing she would be unable to explain how she knew not to enter and instead trailed after Mr Weasley with the rest.

'I'm cured!' he announced as he threw open the door. 'Completely cured!'

There was strangled growl and scuffling and then everything fell silent. Cassy poked her head over Mrs Weasley's shoulder and inwardly sighed to herself. At opposite ends of the kitchen stood Sirius and Professor Snape, their wands drawn and raised. Harry stood between them, closer to Sirius, who still had his hand on his chest as though just having shoved him out of the way. Both the adults lowered their wands despite their faces showing only utter contempt. In one sweeping motion, Professor Snape turned and stalked back up the stairs. He flashed a glower at Cassy as he passed through the cluster in the doorway, his cloak billowed behind him and the front door slammed shut.

Sirius forced a grin onto his face and turned to Mr Weasley. 'Congratulations.'

With renewed life, Mrs Weasley burst into conversation about Mr Weasley's miraculous recovery. She busied herself by the stove for the remainder of the afternoon, cooking everything in the cupboards in preparation of a massive celebratory meal. Fred and George complained that they should have been told about their father's discharge before he appear at the door, but Mr Weasley grinned and said it was better as a surprise.

While the Weasleys lit up the kitchen with spirited conversation, Sirius looked as though he wanted nothing more than to slink away upstairs and vent his anger privately. The smile he wore looked pained.

Harry leant over to Cassy. In a muttered explanation, she found that Sirius had tried to tell Professor Snape that he would answer to him if he heard any word that he was mistreating Harry in his lessons. The conversation had turned bitterly when Professor Snape had brought James into it, stating Harry was too much like him – arrogant and conceited – for any criticism to sink in any way. It was then Sirius had drawn his wand and a fight had nearly erupted.

While the Weasleys were oblivious to the darkening mood at the other end of the table, Cassy was certainly not. When Sirius was not trying his best to be a good host, he brooded. He hardly ate and his expression was close to burning holes in the mahogany table each time he thought no one was looking. Harry stared worriedly at him throughout the meal. She could see the need for him to speak to his Godfather in every look, Harry's unfailing kindness urging him to talk Sirius down from whatever emotional peak he had built himself up to.

Remus muttered to Sirius occasionally, but he did not seem to have any desire to sit him down and discuss it then either, so when the meal came to an end and Sirius ushered them all out of the kitchen with the promise he would clean up there really was no chance to speak.

To Cassy, however, this presented a bigger opportunity.

'Remus,' she called as he approached the front door, having bid his farewells. 'Can I ask you something?'

He looked at her curiously and nodded.

Cassy glanced around. She waved away her friend who had lingered in interest on the stairs. It was only when she had heard the last door shut that she turned back to Remus. For a moment, she studied his face. His hair was speckled with more grey than ever and his face was worn. The full moon had been some weeks before and he seemed stronger now than he had been at Christmas. The gold flecks in his brown-eyes burnt brightly all the same, inquisitive and patient.

'Why was it that Voldemort sought out Harry that night?' she asked bluntly.

He blinked. 'You know why. He was after the James and Lily because they refused to join him.'

'Why was it necessary for Lily to sacrifice herself to save Harry then? Why would she have believed he would have killed a baby? That magic is only evoked by a choice. Professor Dumbledore once told Harry that it was her choice not to step aside that protected his life. Why was she given that choice?'

There was a long and heavy silence. Remus then breathed deeply. His arms rose in front of him and he pushed them away from his chest as though presenting her with an imaginary item. 'No one knows what happened that night, not really. There could be many reasons Harry is alive – '

'You are going to deny Lily Potter's sacrifice?' asked Cassy flatly, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

'No!' said Remus quickly. 'What I am saying is that no one knows the answers to the questions you are asking, Cassy. What has made you ask all this, anyway?'

She surveyed him carefully. His arms fell to his sides.

Slowly, she said, 'Harry and Voldemort are connected. I used to believe it was because of his scar, but now I wonder if it is more than that. I find it had to believe he would kill an infant, one of a family like the Potters, simply because the parents had rejected his cause.'

'You're over-thinking this,' he said firmly. His hands spread out from the centre of his chest again, as if wiping away her comments.

With only the slightest inclination of her head, she nodded. Silently, she climbed the stairs and Remus fastened his cloak to leave. Midway up, however, she turned again.

'You gesticulate a lot when you lie, you know,' she commented. First to Tonks at the party and then to her now. 'It might make you seem more involved and friendly in a conversation, but when you normally keep your hands stubbornly folded in front of you, it really begins to tell other stories. Good-night, Remus.'

She did not see his reaction. He made no move to follow and when Cassy was back in her room she made sure to note what he had said for further reference in her mind. There were more pressing tasks to move onto however and soon Plum had appeared at the end of her bed, large-eyed and eager to please. From beneath her bed, she pulled out a stack of loose paper clippings almost one foot thick. Black and white printed ink swirled across them, but so did hand-written red, carefully kept clear and ridged. She handed them to Plum.

'Make copies of each of these, sporadically place them in the castle, particularly in the common rooms, including Gryffindor. Hide them in people's belongings, if you must. Mix and match them, just make sure they are distributed throughout the castle,' instructed Cassy.

Plum nodded. Her eyes glittered hopefully as she asked, 'Will this help stop the people who hurt Master Alphard?'

Cassy slowly nodded. 'I hope so, Plum.'

* * *

They left Grimmauld Place early the next morning. The Knight Bus zoomed into the street and collected them without question. Tonks and Moody ushered them off at the end of the considerably shorter journey and walked them up to the castle steps. Tonks waved good-bye and hugged Cassy quickly. Moody muttered about giving her disguise away, but Tonks ignored him.

Breakfast had already ended and students had lazily returned to their common rooms to enjoy the last day of the holidays before term began. It was there that they found Neville with Dean and Seamus at one of the tables. Papers were scattered across the surface. They were hunched over them, from a distance it appeared as if they were doing last minute homework, but when Cassy stepped closer, she realised exactly what it was.

Neville looked up at her brightly when she took a seat beside him. 'Morning! How was Christmas?'

'It was okay,' she said blandly. Her attention was fixated on the papers.

'Oh, yeah, you should all take a look at these,' he said quickly.

Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron had squashed themselves around the table and each picked up the nearest sheet.

'Someone's been highlighting all of the inconsistencies in the Daily Prophet articles,' said Dean excitedly.

'They go back as far as June,' added Seamus.

'Where have these come from?' asked Hermione, grabbing another.

'That just it,' said Neville. 'No one knows. Everyone was talking about them this morning at breakfast. They've appeared everywhere, including the Slytherin common room. There was even one stuffed in a library book, Colin Creevey said.

'And no one has any idea who's responsible?' Harry was reading each note carefully.

'None,' said Dean.

'Although, Umbridge wasn't so impressed. She kept scanning over our table all breakfast. I think she was looking for you to blame it on, but seeing as you weren't here that doesn't really work,' said Seamus gleefully.

The conversation continued on for a while. Curiosity reigned amongst the students and even when the group had divided for the day, comments and enquiries could be heard from the other years as they too wondered over the mysterious articles and the questions they posed. Many people shot Harry sceptical looks, but he had not been there to be blamed and Cassy found herself incredibly pleased with her work. There were plenty more articles to publish and she thought she had enough questions to last a month if she continued to distribute them oddly through the month to keep the questions burning. If the students began to put the pieces together and take not of the abnormalities in the news, then perhaps Harry would not have to wait for Voldemort to reveal himself to have open support.

Much of the evening was spent exchanging holiday stories and catching Neville up on the grim news of Harry's personal classes with Professor Snape. Neville did not even pretend that he thought they were a good idea. Instead, he turned to Harry with a look of horror so severe someone might as well have told him he only had seven days left to live. After much insisting that there was no one else available to teach him and that Harry had been instructed to take the classes by the Headmaster, Neville's expression settled on an unattractive grimace/

'I wouldn't want him anywhere near my mind,' he said lowly.

'I don't want him anywhere near me at all, but I need to stop the dreams,' conceded Harry heavily.

As they both sank further into despair, Hermione changed the conversation cheerfully.

'What was the present Blackjack gave you as we left, Harry?' she asked.

Harry frowned. 'He said it was something to communicate with him with, but I don't think I'll use it. I don't want him getting into trouble because of me.'

'It has to be safer than the Floo network, surely,' said Ginny.

'Have you even opened it yet?' asked Cassy.

Harry shook his head.

'If he does not hear from you, he will assume the worst, you know,' she said quietly.

Harry rubbed his face and sighed. 'I am not having him getting himself arrested for me. At the first mention of the lessons again he will jump on the chance to be up here and I won't risk it.'

'At least open it,' urged Ginny, but Harry refused again and they were forced to abandon the topic.

The next day, Cassy considered asking again. She understood why her father had given whatever it was to Harry and not her, but it would have been easier if he had just handed it to his daughter instead of his incredibly stubborn godson. Cassy, at least, would have opened it before dismissing it, or figured out a way to compromise both Harry's fear of recklessness and her father's need to ensure Harry's safety into some manageable action. Without knowing what it was in the packaging then she had no hope to.

As it was, the parcel had gone to Harry and it was not Cassy's place to storm into his room and take it. She shoved the curiosity aside and buried it far in the depths of her mind. Instead, she moved to batting away the never-ceasing questions of the DA members as they each eagerly demanded to know when sessions would be starting again.

News of Harry's remedial Potion classes soon spread and Malfoy had cackled madly as he passed at lunch. Harry ignored him though, but did not fail to notice the lack of laughter from the rest of the hall. A few Slytherin's sniggered, yet most people seemed to watch him with a veiled interest. When he mentioned it, Luna suggested it was because of the newspapers that had mysteriously appeared; Ravenclaw had increased their subscription to the Daily Prophet and had taken to combing over the details each day now.

No one loitered after they had eaten and instead retreated to the safety of the library. Everyone was keen to avoid any further discussions with the DA members, the size of the group made even a few questions seem unusual and no one wanted to chance Professor Umbridge resting her all-seeing owl eyes on anyone in particular as he next target.

Cassy dismissed herself from her friends quickly and slipped into a seat beside Stephen. He smiled at her and set down the book he had been reading at the narrow desk at the far side of the study area. With the topic of the DA quickly waved away, Cassy spoke to him about the holidays. He had spent it with his mother – she noted how he did not mention his father – in their home in Telford. They had a large party with the neighbours at New Years and they had celebrated his seventeenth birthday quietly the next day. Cassy exchanged her own amended version of her holidays, outlining her faux time at the Weasleys with Harry.

'I normally get an obtuse card from Benjamin during the holidays,' said Stephen thoughtfully. 'It's odd. This is the first year I have never got one.'

Probably because you are my friend and I very nearly murdered him the month before, thought Cassy flatly.

'I still do not understand your relationship with him,' she commented.

'I don't either,' he shrugged and Cassy smiled.

The only issue she had with that statement was that she thought she might be beginning to see their relationship as it really was. She had not given up thinking of Shandy since detentions had begun, but rather the longer she spent in silence with him the more she seemed to notice and the more time she had to consider him. He was clever, incredibly so, cunning, popular, apparently amusing and seemingly charming as word had spread he had found himself another girlfriend. Shandy surrounded himself with people who hung off his every word but what he had said to her that night stuck in her brain.

'We could be friends,' he had offered, even though the two had never seen eye-to-eye since the moment they had met. He had not spread the word of who was responsible for the Chamber being opened, nor had be tried to retaliate for when she had cursed him on the Durmstrang ship. Although he had been angry, he had clearly been impressed with her cunning. It always came back to him testing her and her always excelling beyond his comprehension.

Shandy did not want to subdue her. Instead, Cassy rather thought he was trying to find equals.

'If it makes you feel any better, I did not hear from Malfoy this Christmas either,' said Cassy, still smiling.

Stephen hummed. 'Don't let Astoria hear that. She's already quite upset by what Malfoy's been saying.'

Cassy rolled her eyes and smirked. 'Astoria is nosey and will just say what she wishes to, she even opened a conversation by directly asking me about my newly escaped convict father. I do not think my saying anything to her will stop her doing anything.'

He laughed loudly.

'Honestly, I just stared at her. Thank Merlin Slytherin has taught her some tact.'

Stephen just laughed harder at Cassy's pretend disgruntled expression.

'Can I interrupt?' sounded a flat, low voice from behind.

The pair turned and peered up at Harry. His eyes were half-lidded in contempt and his pale skin was flushed around his lightning bolt scar.

Cassy stood quickly and frowned. She waved good-bye to Stephen and followed Harry into the silent rows of bookshelves before pulling him to a stop by his elbow.

'Your scar is hurting again, isn't it?' she asked.

'How do - ?'

'You always rub it when it bothers you,' she muttered.

Harry paused for a second and then let out a deep breath. 'I realised something and I need your opinion on it.' When Cassy nodded, he continued. 'The corridor Mr Weasley was in is the same one I have dreamt of for months. Voldemort wants something from the Department of Mysteries. I think whatever weapon there is might be there.'

Cassy was quiet for a moment. 'Stugis Podmore was trying to access a room within the Ministry when he was arrested. To be there at night means he must have been doing something and the paper did curiously exclude the location.'

'He might have been guarding the entrance,' suggested Harry thoughtfully. 'But what is kept in the Department of Mysteries?'

'No one is sure,' said Cassy lowly. 'Those who work there are called "Unspeakables" because they are sworn to secrecy on the projects they work on; it is deathly impossible to become one. You have to be the pinnacle of a genius in some form. Whatever skill you present that might be of use to them, you must be of the best in Britain. They attempt to solve life's largest mysteries – time, space, thoughts, and death. They developed Hermione's Time-Turner, in fact.'

As she spoke, they moved back to the table that Harry had occupied with Neville and Hermione. He watched her thoughtfully, assessing how the information might fit into Voldemort's plans.

'Chances are there is certainly something there worth having then,' he said grimly.

Cassy nodded faintly.

Neville and Hermione peered at them curiously. It became very evident that Harry had not shared his suspicions with them before finding her and from the distant look on his face the conversation would have to come later.

'Maybe we should head back to the common room,' suggested Neville. His eyes were focused on Harry's face, which remained pale as he scrubbed at his scar again.

Hermione nodded worriedly and Cassy grabbed her bag from the table.

Too consumed in thought to protest, Harry allowed himself to be shepherded up to the common room. It was alive with noise. Fred and George stood by the fireplace with their heads flickering between visible and invisible as they put on and removed a pair of pointed hats. The crowd around them applauded loudly.

Harry muttered that he was going to bed. Less than five minutes later, Neville's concern won and he hurried upstairs to see how he was. Once he was gone, Cassy and Hermione made themselves comfortable at their little unoccupied table. Flowers had bloomed in Neville's ugly vase.

Midway through a conversation about Ron's leniency with the first-years during Prefect duty, Neville burst out of the boys' staircase. Panic was written across every inch on him. By the time he had stumbled to a stop beside the table, Cassy was already standing and demanding an explanation.

Neville grimaced. 'When I went upstairs Harry was on the ground panting. He said Voldemort was really happy about something. He looked like he was going to be sick.'

Hermione hissed. 'His defences must be really low from Professor Snape's attacks…'

'Is he all right?' questioned Cassy, scowling.

'He's gone back to bed,' said Neville quickly. 'I don't blame him. He looked exhausted.'

Cassy knew Harry would not have gone to sleep. He never slept after a vision, or if something was on his mind. He would lie awake for hours thinking of it, worrying over what had the Dark Lord so pleased and how it could possibly relate to the Department of Mysteries. Yet, knowing he would not want to talk about right then, she sat back down. The attacks were becoming more and more frequent. She sincerely hoped he began to take his Occlumency lessons seriously.

* * *

**This is the 101st chapter of my series I have uploaded. I have another twenty-three for this year… so probably almost another hundred before the series is complete. This seemed like an easier undertaking when I began it. I will update next week and I ****promise**** it will be an interesting chapter. **

**This is just a little connecting chapter and the introduction of some little things. **

**Thank-you to the two people that reviewed the last chapter and as always, feel free to tell me what you think!**

**Thanks!**


	23. His Star, Her Hero

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXIII: His Star, Her Hero**

Once again, the little hand mirror was drawn and searching the Great Hall secretly. Her newspaper had writing scrawled across it again; not as curling and striking as her own, nor as sharp as Harry's. It was not as small as Hermione's, nor as crooked as Neville's. It was recognisable all the same though and every newspaper in the hall appeared to have the same startling colours across each and every inner page.

She had released more questions on previous issues during the night a week ago, but Professor Umbridge had quickly purged what she could from the common rooms before anyone had a proper chance to read them fully. Instead, Cassy had concocted another scheme that appeared to be working perfectly; she changed the day's issues of the Daily Prophet to a collection of old articles. The front pages remained the same, but inside was littered with red lines and questions of prior publications. It had taken some thought, yet she mad successfully managed to alter half of the newspapers as they swooped overhead, ensuring none of the teachers received the altered copies.

The hand mirror was used to glance at the students without displaying any great interest in them. She read as much of their discussions as she could from their lips and otherwise let the surrounding noise be her guide in the responses to her latest work.

It was only a matter of time before Professor Umbridge made another attempt to ban the papers. Her last announcement condemned anyone in possession of them. Her eyes flickered to Harry. She could say nothing because she had no evidence it was him, although that did not stop her large mouth spreading into a thin sneer as she threatened to search every single student for a copy if they were not handed in to be disposed of.

She remained oblivious at the teacher's high table, though beside her the Headmaster had a twinkle in his eye that Cassy had not seen for some time. She busied herself with the real Daily Prophet article while Harry and Hermione read over her edited on opposite her.

Leaning in to read Neville's copy, Cassy spotted a collection of black and white photographs. Ten faces stared back. She paused. Bellatrix LeStrange laughed in her tiny box, her straight black hair tangled from recent arrest and her dark eyes glittered with excitement. She was the spitting image of Andromeda, besides the colder complexion and her more hooded eyes. The top of the page read:

_Mass Break-Out: Ten Escaped from Azkaban Prison_

Half-way through the third sentence, she found what she was looking for.

_It is suspected that mass-murderer Sirius Black is responsible for the break-out as he has inside knowledge of Azkaban._

'How dare they?' she breathed.

There were no mentioned of the traitorous Dementors that had attacked Harry in the summer, nor a single word of Voldemort. Instead, they made reference to Bellatrix LeStrange's relation to Sirius; they were cousins, they said, he must have wanted her free. Fudge actually had suggested himself her father, who he knew as well as she did that he was innocent, was to blame for the escapes. If he had just put himself on the line to begin with and be honest rather than fearing for his reputation then her father would not be on the run and he would have believed Voldemort's return if the trial had gone ahead.

'Fool,' she muttered, turning away from the paper.

Fudge had committed political suicide. When everything came out – which it would when Cassy reached seventeen – he would never be able to stand for anything again. Cassy would get him.

A hand slammed on the table. Hermione jumped. Neville balled the paper up loudly. He breathed deeply, nostrils flaring.

No amount of soft murmuring from Hermione seemed to get through to him. It was not until lunch that he calmed. There was a definite sharpness in his movements, mechanical and quick, but he refused to speak of it, or let the conversation wither out. It was almost as though nothing had been announced, but slowly, the rest of the castle had become aware of the real headline story of the Daily Prophet that morning. They watched and whispered behind their hands. Their gazes never lasted too long when they caught Cassy's piercing stare, even across the hall, but she could not help but notice fear and blame seemed to be further back in their minds than she expected. Some of them were more obvious in their contempt with jabs and jibes, but backed away when Harry would round on them quickly even if Cassy had insisted on ignoring it; most of them, however, looked anxious at what the event implied rather that because of Cassy. It was not unnoticed why all ten of those people had been in Azkaban. They were all Death Eaters and they had all miraculously escaped.

Hermione had wasted no time in writing a letter. She refused to tell them to who or why and rushed from the table as Harry read out a small passage from the middle of the paper. A man named Bode had died, he said, he had heard his name from his trial.

Ron hummed. 'Dad's spoken about him before. He's an Unspeakable, or something. He was in the hospital over Christmas. Dad was on about paying him a visit, but Mum talked him into staying in bed.'

'Why was he there?' asked Harry eagerly.

Ron raised an eyebrow. 'A workplace injury, they said.'

'Do you know where?' questioned Harry.

'What's so important about Bode?' Ron shook his head.

Harry pursed his lips before telling Ron everything he and Cassy had discussed the Department of Mysteries. His hope was in vain. Ron looked more pale than thoughtful and when Harry pressed for more information, he merely shrugged.

'I don't know why anyone would want to kill him,' he said. 'How did he even die?'

'Apparently someone gave him a Devil's Snare plant for Christmas and the staff thought it was a Flitterbloom flower. It strangled him as he slept,' read Harry, grimly.

Neville choked on his drink. 'That looks nothing like a Flitterbloom! For starters, a Flitterbloom would already be budding and the shapes of the leaves are far more rounded than a Devil's Snare!'

Everyone turned to him with inappropriate amusement.

'The question is,' posed Cassy, 'why would anyone want to kill him? Was it just opportunistic, or was he in hospital because of an earlier attempt?'

Bode's death only reiterated the urgency in knowing what it was that was hidden in the Ministry. No fresh ideas had come to them by the end of the week, although they were not certain whatever it was must certainly be something to do with the Unspeakables and their vast range of secret projects. It hardly narrowed the search down though.

What interest Cassy almost equally though, and she had been sure to mention it in her new release of questioning articles, was that when her father had escaped Azkaban Dementors had been stationed at every corner. When ten Death Eaters had escaped there were none to be seen. She could not decide whether this was an act of useless denial that a something greater was afoot, or if the Ministry had truly lost their alliance with the Dementors and could no longer summon their guard. It would certainly ease the escape and she was more inclined towards the latter. Her latest article had seen possession of the papers punishable by expulsion for questioning the Ministry. It had only made people seek them more.

Although all of their efforts had been divided between school work and theorising of the 'weapon' the Order were said to have, word still got out about Hagrid's probation. It was little more than a twitter of passing comments. No one besides Cassy and her friends seemed to care the slightest bit that Hagrid might be fired. On the other hand, everyone seemed to care a great deal about Draco Malfoy and his illicit love for Muggle women.

The rumour Cassy had begun appeared to have taken a life of its own and it was becoming more and more common for her to see her cousin red-faced and scowling as he avoided Hogwarts' many eyes. She would smirk when she caught his eye and he would sneer in return.

He had watched her for days after that. Each time an assignment was handed back he would crane his neck to see her grade, the hope that his own lies had damaged her mind, if not her spirit. He never concentrated in class anymore. He allowed the giggles of his peers, whether directed at him or not, to displace his keen mind nearly every lesson. Cassy might have felt a bit guilty had he not tormented her so. It was only a time before he would crack and confront her. If she could not approach him, she would lure him to her.

Homework increased again and because of the new decree banning teacher-student contact outside of class, many students like Neville were struggling with the heavy workload. The professors did their best to work around the clause by giving extra hints in class, or setting easier assignments. Easier assignments meant more of them as to cover the necessary text. Work was only made more difficult as Professor Umbridge continued her purge of 'unacceptable' materials in the library. With Hagrid fearing for his job, he had set much more homework in an attempt to keep to the recommended weekly quota and his class went from interesting, if somewhat hazardous, to dull and theory heavy.

Detentions had increased as a result too. The jokes and snide comments that had once earnt nothing besides a faint glare from Professor McGonagall now resulted in nights full of students with bleedings hands and scars that never quite healed. It had slowly spread through the school and what had been the secret punishment of a couple of Gryffindors had become a school-wide paranoia.

As word spread, as Lee Jordon cradled a bleeding hand and Terry Boot's skin stung with thin, sharp lines, demand for the resurrection of Dumbledore's Army grew louder and louder. On the following Thursday to the announcement of the breakout, everyone gathered early in the Room of Requirement. There was no complaining or snide remarks as Harry gave his orders. The room was tense with grim determination. Not only had Professor Umbridge forced further resentment through the student body, but the breakout had shaken many to the core. Those who stood in front of Harry did so with uncompromising determination.

Susan Bones' aunt, uncle, and cousins had all died at the hands of one of the ten escaped convicts. The Weasleys had lost their uncles Fabian and Gideon to five Death Eaters, one of whom was Antonin Dolohov. Many of the people who stood before Harry had lost people in the First Wizarding War. Even Seamus had eagerly joined the session. A tide had turned in the mind of the student body and Professor Umbridge was failing to quell it.

As soon as Harry stopped speaking, Cassy's wand was thrown from her hand and high into the air. It clattered behind her, echoing through the silent room. She stared in shock. Neville's wand was raised in front of him, his brow dipped lowly.

'Excellent, Neville,' praised Harry, grinning. He passed Cassy back her wand.

As soon as her hand touched the reed wood, she fired her own disarming charm straight back and it was Neville who had to run to fetch his wand this time. Quickly, he readied himself.

Everyone around them soon began practising themselves when the shock of Neville's surprise attack had worn away. In the haze of hexes and charms flying all around, Cassy did not allow herself to become too consumed in her small battle against Neville. She was right, of course, that he needed only a motive and he would find a pathway to learning anything Harry could throw at him. However, as wonderful as the sight of his determination was, she knew that battles were rarely one on one. It would not be merely a test of her skill against an opponent and while no one was attempting to curse her when her back was turned right then, she worked on dividing her attention between her opponent and her surroundings. Her mind worked overtime, clocking and calculating each flash of light, incantation, or shout of alarm. She worked out the where Hermione and Luna had moved to in the room and she knew when Harry was doubling back around in his observations; he was a mere ten foot behind and to her left.

As quick as Neville was becoming with his curses, he never moved his feet. While Cassy could happily dart out of the line of fire from years of dance lessons, he would often not, his reflexes dulled by his unpractised feet. After a short lesson on that, as Harry seemed to have noticed the fault in several students, the room descended into chaos. Everything they had learnt was thrown around the room in explosions and bursts of colour. Even after Cassy had knocked Neville to the ground, his lip split, he stood with his wand ready again without even taking the time to wipe the blood away. It was impressive, but alarming. Bellatrix's escape had caused a switch in him to flip and the bravery she had always known was in there was unleashed. She was not about to let that flame die.

Over the course of the next two meetings, Neville continued his rapid growth. In his eagerness to learn everything Harry demonstrated, he had injured himself several times and Luna had popped his fingers back into place more than once. He remained undeterred though and he and Cassy often ended up engaged in loud, consuming duels which Harry had to stop when a bookcase shattered behind Neville's head.

Harry whistled loudly and everything came to a halt. In the late January evening light, the room looked hauntingly din. He congratulated everyone as he always did and began to wave them from the room in small groups when the Marauder's Map allowed it. Questioning demands to know when the next meeting was rang out down the hall.

Moving away from the door, Cassy's eyes followed Neville as he lingered near the mirror at the far end of the hall. Gingerly, he twisted the corner of a newspaper clipping that had been stuck beneath the photo of Cedric. Ten sneering faces look back at him.

Hermione, Ginny, and Luna must have noticed too, for they did not leave either. The door shut quietly and Harry weaved through the girls and strode towards Neville. He clapped a hand on his shoulder and shook it slightly, forcing the other boy's attention from the Death Eaters' photographs.

'You did great today, Nev,' he said, smiling. 'Your improvement is amazing.'

'That's not hard when you're starting so low, is it?' questioned Neville bitterly. 'It's not enough.'

'You're improving more than anyone, Neville,' interjected Ginny.

'I'm still weak.'

'That's not true – ' began Hermione.

'It is!' he bit. He turned to face them, his face twisted, distraught. 'Don't you see? I have to be better. Better than this. When Bellatrix LeStrange comes around again, I will not lose to her. I will not let her get away with what she did not my parents and I can't, I just can't, let her hurt anyone else I care about.

'Look at you all. When I do, I see a lot of similarities to the original Order, you know. I see Harry, brave like his dad and selfless like his mum. Cassy is like Sirius, putting her beliefs above herself and never giving up on what she wants, even if it seems impossible. Hermione is Remus, smart and loyal, even when she wants to just scream. Ginny is like Fabian and Gideon; you would fight tooth and nail before you ever let someone get the better of you… and Luna, you're like my mum, I think. You don't care what people say about you and Gran always tells me she never did. She was always proud to be herself and she never let anyone change her and don't let anyone ever try and change you, Luna.'

Neville's eyes had filled with tears. His lip wobbled and before anyone could speak, he pushed on. 'Now look at me. Me? I'm like Pettigrew. I am weak. I am a coward and I don't want to be, but I am. I have no talents – '

'Enough.' Harry's voice cut in sharply and calmly. Neville jumped and Harry peered down at his shorter friend seriously. 'You're no, weak, Neville, nor are you a coward. You came with me to face Voldemort in first-year, you tried to help me rescue Ginny in second-year too. They were times you could have died and yes, you were afraid but, Neville, so was I. Bravery is not about never being afraid, it's about doing things despite it. The idea of a war terrifies me. When I think of all the people I could lose and everything that could happen I feel sick, but we're here to do something about it.'

Neville watched Harry in awe.

'You were the only person to reach out to me,' said Cassy with her arms folded across her chest. 'You had a right to hate me for what my relatives had done to your family, but you refused to treat me as if I was one of them. I could have ended the same way as them, yet you had no fears because you did not see them; you saw me. You stood by me when you could have run when it would have been easier not to. That is something Pettigrew did not do.'

'Those who do great deeds rarely consider them so. Do not sell yourself so short,' said Luna. Her eyes held an uncharacteristic serious glint and Neville gulped down his fears. He smiled a watery grin and nodded. Each nod became firmer until he turned to them all with new, determined eyes.

'Thanks, guys.'

* * *

'We should have another DA meeting soon,' said Astoria.

February had rolled in yesterday, bringing with it dull grey skies and the threat of late snowfall. The last DA lesson had only been five days previous, but like many members, Astoria eagerly awaited the burning in her pocket each week. She said it was the only thing she had to look forward to anymore. She was not a part of any other societies and she was only mildly interested in Quidditch. Her House had become tense and suspicious of one another and Cassy had noticed the way they seemed to have divided themselves since the breakout. It was not as clear cut as Death Eaters and non-Death Eaters, but there appeared to be a disagreement amongst the older years which Astoria had yet to fully work out.

She swung back on her chair and sighed heavily.

'You're lucky you're only a third-year. I have NEWTs to worry over,' said Stephen. He pushed Astoria's chair back onto all four legs and fixed her with a brotherly stare that he had perfected in the last few weeks.

She took no notice and swung her chair back again.

'I actually have exams which count this year,' said Cassy.

'Mine count for fifty-percent of my overall grade,' protested Stephen.

The three of them had established a regular meeting time in the library every Sunday when it was clear and they had no other possible commitments to conflict with. They were always undisturbed and Madam Pince did not seem to mind what they did as long as they were quiet about it, so with a silencing charm around them and food hidden beneath the desk, the three spent their Sunday mornings uninterrupted in each other's company; it was the only time they seemed to have now that suspicion of both Cassy and the Slytherin House had flared once more.

Cassy glanced at Astoria, 'Next week might be freer for the DA. Although, it might be better the week after, given next Saturday.'

'Are either of you taking anyone to Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day then?' asked Astoria, fiddling with her blonde hair.

'No,' said Cassy, who looked to Stephen.

He shook his head. Cassy raised an eyebrow and Astoria leant forward eagerly across the table.

'You're not asking Natalia then? She recently broke up with her boyfriend,' she asked.

He waved his hand flippantly. 'I'm not entirely stupid. I know that's a terrible idea.'

'It's because you are afraid, isn't it?' sighed Astoria dramatically.

Stephen booted her chair leg and Astoria wobbled precariously and emitted a short, sharp shriek. Cassy laughed loudly and Astoria huffed, planting all four legs firmly back on the floor. She then turned to Cassy, quickly changing the subject. 'Your cousin had been bragging about being related to LeStrange. He seems to think having a convicted Death Eater in the family with make him more popular after that rumour of him trying to run away and marry a Muggle girl before starting Hogwarts.'

Cassy lifted an eyebrow at the extent her lie had grown, but only drawled a low, 'Wonderful.'

'And has it?' asked Stephen, his chin on his hand.

'No. There is actually quite a bit of sympathy in Slytherin for the Longbottoms. They had a fate worse than death, most say. Still, most people are fairly unconcerned and cheerful. I was almost caught in an argument the other day about who caused the break-out. Some Hufflepuff was convinced it was an inside job and you could see all the Slytherins wanting to admit it was the Dark Lord. I almost told her myself, but then Professor Umbridge rounded the corner.'

Cassy winced. 'She did not hear you, did she?'

'Luckily not. I do not fancy one of those scars, to be honest,' she said as she glanced down at Cassy's right hand.

Stephen hummed thoughtfully. He picked at the feathery edges of his quill and said, 'Ben, on the other hand, is quite vocal about it. He has no doubt You-Know-Who is back. Seems a bit indifferent about it, though.'

Cassy looked at him thoughtfully. 'I cannot see him as an aspiring Death Eater. In fact, I do not think he is actually a terrible person deep inside.'

Stephen and Astoria squinted at her as if she had said something completely incomprehensible.

'I mean it. I have been thinking about it for a while now and I actually think he is just conceited more than anything. He likes to get laughs at the expense of others sometimes, but fundamentally I do not believe he is likely to begin killing Muggles.' She was quiet for a moment, then idly admitted, 'I think he and I are quite similar.'

'You're joking,' protested Astoria.

'You're really not alike,' said Stephen. 'You do remember he had people attack your friend last year, right?'

Cassy held up her hand and silenced them both. 'If I was in Slytherin House, I would have shut myself off further from people. I did not make a great effort to make friends in Gryffindor at eleven and if they had not come to me then I probably never would have. In Slytherin, people already had preconceived perceptions of me and I knew that. I would not have sought out friends and the ones I may have had would merely be for alliances and co-operation more than enjoyment.

'Both Shandy and I can be foul when angered and worse when confronted. We both protect our faults fiercely. So, had I been in Slytherin, I most likely would have cultivated a group very similar to his and it certainly would have driven me to eradicate any intellectual competition, although I must admit I quite enjoy that now anyway. The difference is that I would not attack or blackmail quite like he does. Attacking my friend was a ridiculous ploy.'

It was become clear to Cassy that she and Shandy shared many similar traits. They were not the same by any means, but she saw herself in him, the potential self she could have become had she not accepted Gryffindor would be an agreeable placement on the train ride four years ago. He had panicked at the sight of the Dark spell she had used; he did not have the heart to kill so cruelly, or at least not over something so trivial. He was incredibly perceptive and intelligent, he knew his own power and influence, and more than that he had insecurities with his family that he tried his best to set himself apart from.

'That's all well and good,' said Stephen flatly, 'but it doesn't make him any less of a git.'

'Nothing probably ever will,' conceded Cassy airily, nodding. 'But, as long as he is not against us, then I am not so bothered by what he does. Although, I would much prefer it if he was with us.'

'With us?' repeated Astoria warily.

'You don't mean… You honestly can't be thinking of trying to befriend him, surely?' demanded Stephen. His mouth remained open and his eyes widened in shock. Astoria watched Cassy with her own owl-like expression, but Cassy merely hummed.

'There is a war coming,' she said easily.

'You are mad,' muttered Astoria.

Cassy said nothing. Idly, she traced the scar on the back of her hand. Perhaps she was mad, but she was determined to do something good with it, even if no one else would try. She just needed some time to plan.

'What does it say?' asked Astoria suddenly.

Cassy looked up. The blonde Slytherin was eyeing her hand with narrowed blue-eyes. The three had never spoken of it, although Cassy knew they had noticed the thin lines that marred her skin for weeks. She had hidden it well at first, but once news of the quills became public knowledge, she saw no reason to pretend. Everyone was speaking of them and there was no longer any danger of being called a liar or accused of having faked the injury as she and Harry had feared. Carefully, she stretched her fingers up and out and brought the hand closer to her face.

'I must respect my heritage,' she read. 'I insulted Wizarding tradition by supporting my Muggle-born friend in class. I received a lovely scar in recompense.'

Astoria winced and frowned grimly. Noisily, she pushed back her chair.

'I am going to look up Blood Quills,' she announced. 'There must be something on them here.'

There was not. Cassy had looked before, but knowing Astoria would not accept that, she let her go.

Stephen pushed out his chair too and planted himself on Astoria's vacated one. He pulled Cassy's hand towards him and read the curling script carefully. The cuts had become nothing more than crisp, white lines. Slightly raised from the skin, yet invisible unless one was truly looking for them. Cassy shifted in her seat as he twisted her hand, searching for better lighting.

'This is awful,' he muttered. 'What is someone supposed to do if they have terrible handwriting?'

Cassy laughed. 'I wondered that. At least then it would be illegible and no one could tell what you did. You could say it was from anything.'

'How far would you lie to cover up that you had crap handwriting though?' asked Stephen.

'I would never have bad handwriting,' retorted Cassy. 'It would annoy Professor Umbridge more though, not being able to read her punishment.'

'Public humiliation is no good if no one is there to see it,' shrugged Stephen. 'If I get detention, I'll make sure my writing's atrocious, just for you.'

They laughed again and a sharp cough sounded from behind them. As she turned, Cassy knew it could not be Professor Umbridge, the sound was too low. What she did not expect was to see Harry standing some distance away with a heavy scowl marring his handsome face.

'Harry?' she said, standing. She tugged her hand loose from Stephen's, unaware he had still been holding it.

'Forget it,' said Harry shortly. He turned on his heel and swept back out of sight and Cassy hurried after him in confusion. She jogged through the aisles. His superior leg span had carried him farther than she expected and very quickly, but she caught sight of his robe vanishing around a nearby corner and ran to catch him.

She gripped his arm and forced him to turn to her.

'Are you all right?' she asked quickly.

'Fine,' he snapped. He withdrew slightly and looked above her, avoiding her eyes. Softer, he said, 'Go back to Goodridge.'

'Is it about Occlumency? Did you have a dream? Is that why you are upset?' she pressed.

Harry frowned again. 'Just go, forget it. I didn't mean to interrupt.'

'Interrupt? Wh-'

Harry pulled his arm free and pushed her shoulders with both hands. 'Go.'

'Harry!'

'Just go back to your boyfriend! I didn't mean to bother you. It was only about Occlumency, it can wait.' His voice had changed from a harsh bite to a soft murmur.

Stunned, Cassy could think of nothing to respond with. Her mind had gone blank and it took several seconds to even begin to comprehend his words had been a full sentence, let alone their meaning. She opened her mouth slowly, but by the time a question had formed on her lips he had already begun to speak again.

'Are you going to Hogsmeade with him next week?'

'Why?' Cassy asks distantly with a growing frown.

'Are you?'

'Stephen and I are –'

'I don't think you should go with him. You can do better, you know.'

Again, Cassy blinked.

Where is this coming from? She wondered. She could not stop her right eyebrow drifting upwards and a wonky grin pulled at her lips.

'Can I?' she laughed awkwardly. 'I'm the bastard daughter of a Muggle and a supposed murderer. No one in this climate, no one in their right mind, would want to date me.'

She tried to smile and make a joke of it, but Harry's face remained stonily cold.

'I would,' he said immediately.

The forced smile slipped off her face. It was uttered so quietly that she might have missed it if it had not been for the silence of the library. Unlike earlier when her mind slowed at the mere implication of her dating Stephen, her brain completely drew to a halt at Harry's confession.

Oh, she thought. Oh!

She stared straight into his stunning green-eyes; she noted how they had begun to narrow and she tried to find the words to say something. A fierce bubbling of fire erupted in her stomach. A sort of undeniable excitement; she did not know whether to shout, or jump, or to curl into a ball right then and there and just laugh.

As her inner conflict waged on, Harry's eyes scrunched shut. He sighed loudly and the sound shook Cassy from her hazy pleasure.

'I wasn't going to tell you because it would just make things awkward. I just don't think you should be with someone who still fancies a girl who doesn't look twice at him and joined Charms Club last month to be closer to her. How long – ' he stumbled through his words without ever looking at her, but Cassy did not pay any attention to what he was saying anymore. The excitement continued to build even with his fumbling. Unable to contain herself any longer, she gripped his tie tightly and in one swift tug pulled his face down to meet hers in a long overdue kiss.

When she finally let him go again, Harry said nothing. She took advantage of his silence and pushed onwards, shaking her head. 'You misunderstand, you misunderstand entirely, actually. I tried to tell you how I felt twice, but you avoided me both times, so I just assumed after the second time that you knew and were trying to save me the embarrassment of being rejected.'

Harry said nothing still and Cassy was beginning to think she had completely destroyed any capability to respond. Then, he laughed.

'Hermione was right. I should have just told you,' he said, beaming.

'Hermione?' she repeated. Rubbing her eyes, she said, 'Neville told me the same thing.'

He laughed and she shook her head with the widest smile she had held for a long time. It seemed absurd that she had ever avoided telling him in fear he would reject her, yet she still could not believe her luck. She just assumed they were friends, that her feelings would fade and she would watch him be happy with someone else and her life would continue to revolve around work and discovery as she had always imagined as a child. Yet, there he stood with a toothy smile of his face, his hair messed even more than usual from his nervous ruffling and his eyes darting across the highest levels of the shelves as though he too could not believe his good fortune.

Harry ducked his face suddenly closer to Cassy's. His brilliant green eyes gleamed behind his glasses mischievously. 'Maybe we should listen to them more often. I think we have a bit of time to make up then.'

'Not too often,' murmured Cassy. 'I don't want Hermione becoming too big-headed.'

Harry chuckled.

His hand lifted to her upper-arm and he pulled her forward hesitantly. Their lips met again and instead to stunned stiffness, they both sunk into it, her hand on his chest and their others intertwined. They might have been together for a second, an hour, or an age. Neither one paid attention and time blurred together; the only thing Cassy was aware of was Harry's lips pressed firmly against her own and the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

'Called it,' came a low voice.

Suddenly, the pair jumped apart. Immediately her eyes flashed dangerously towards the grinning faces of Fred and George peeking out behind a nearby bookcase.

Harry cleared his throat, but stood quite unashamedly tall.

George grinned wider.

'We had a bet on,' he said and nudged Fred.

'I said you two would get together in sixth-year, but George said fifth. We made the bet back in third-year, but if it had been in fourth-year then I would have bet this year too,' admitted Fred dramatically. 'Now I owe him a Galleon.'

Cassy's face was dangerously calm.

'What a moment to eavesdrop,' she said quietly. 'What a moment to interrupt.'

'You should be flattered we thought you two would get together!' protested Fred quickly.

Tilting her head to one side, Cassy continued to stare, cold and unblinking.

'Tell anyone and we will being having words.' She twirled her wand in her hand and sent the boys running with their hands raised in surrender. Their laughter echoed through the library and the sharp hush of Madam Pince hissed followed them. The double doors slammed shut. Cassy turned back to Harry and sighed heavily.

He laughed and stuck his hands sheepishly in his pockets. She nudged him playfully.

'You know, if you had come a moment earlier you would have seen Astoria there with us. Stephen was looking at my scar,' she said, glancing up at him sideways.

He shrugged and grinned. 'Yeah, but then I probably wouldn't have said anything, so really it worked out well.'

The two spent nearly an hour in the empty aisle. They spoke about everything and nothing. Harry had taken Cassy's hand at some point during the conversation and neither felt the need to pull away. The ache of uncertain longing that had plagued her for over a year was finally at ease. There were not nearly as many pauses in the conversation as expected; he was not at all embarrassed to ask her to Hogsmeade with him next weekend. The two had known each other too long and were simply too close to feel any unease and Cassy continued to tease him while avidly avoiding his probing questions on exactly when she had tried to confess herself.

She told him she would have to speak to the rest of her strictly platonic male friends and cancel their wild dates before agreeing to go with him. He rolled his eyes and the two wandered through the library back to where Harry had been sat some time before he had retrieved her. It was only when she caught sight of the Occlumency book on the table that Cassy sobered slightly.

'Why is it you came to find me?' she asked.

Harry shrugged. 'I just wanted to ask you about something Snape mentioned during our last lesson, but for the life of me I can't remember what it is called anymore.'

Cassy shook her head and sighed, while he ruffled his hair thoughtfully.

'I will go and collect my things and - oh,' she said suddenly with an eyebrow raised. 'How did you know Stephen joined Charms and that Faulks was in it?'

Suddenly, Harry appeared very sheepish.

* * *

**Finally!**

**Okay, so this only took four and a half years of their lives to get to. Tada! It's probably not as climactic as expected, but to be honest they are 15/16 years old and in school. It was not a confession spawn by extraordinary circumstances, but one that could actually occur and I always imagined it this way since I wrote them first meeting in the library back in 2012. **

**I had neither of them particularly embarrassed about it because when Harry is with Ginny, he is not fussed at all and in fact finds the attention rather amusing. I cannot picture Cassy caring for other people's opinions either, because she knows Harry and she trusts him more than anyone. I hope it read quite naturally. There wasn't much detail, but the more I tried to force in the worse it read, so in the end I did not bother. This is also the first time I have written romance in any form. I didn't realise how difficult it can be to make it believable. I mean, sometimes I love the absurdity of fictional romance, but I do strive to a level of believability with Cassy, so I hope it was. **

**Now all there is to do is let their romance develop. Of course, this is Cassy and Harry and although a major element in the progression of the characters, this is **_**still **_**not a romance story. You will be seeing much more of it from now on though! I did not get this far to ignore it again. **

**Also, Fred and George do make a comment during CMBlack: Blood of a Dog that they suspect who Cassy will end up with as a passing comment in a chapter. So I actually made a very premature reference to their bet. **

**I hope you liked it and thanks for the reviews on the last chapter!**

**Thanks!**


	24. St Valentine

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXIV: St. Valentine**

As it was, Cassy did not have to worry about Fred and George informing everyone of her and Harry's new relationship status, because Harry did a good enough job of that himself. When they returned to the common room that evening, nothing changed between them. They did not cuddle on the sofa, or feel the need to attach themselves to one another constantly in one way or another. Instead, Cassy continued to help Neville with his homework as usual and Harry played exploding snap with Ginny until neither could breathe through the abundance of smoke surrounding them.

She smiled at him the next morning. It was a small smile, too sweet to be a greeting, too knowing to be shy. He beamed back, his hands in his pockets and wordlessly they walked with their friends down to breakfast. They sat beside one another as usual, fought over the best toast as usual, liking the same medium-done pieces. It was only when Hermione looked between them with a small smirk that Harry seemed to feel the need to break the silence they had silently agreed upon.

Casually, as he spooned beans onto his plate, he said, 'Cassy and I are together now, by the way.'

Neville choked on his pumpkin juice and Hermione let out a short shriek, unlike any noise Cassy had ever heard before. Instead of teasing her, she tipped the goblet higher, obscuring her face further as her cheeks threatened to flush as her friends exploded into conversation.

'I knew it would happen!' exclaimed Hermione in delight. 'I just knew it.'

'It's about time,' coughed Neville, smiling despite having inhaled his drink.

Cassy stomped on his foot. No one needed to know how long she had fancied Harry for.

No one seemed to notice is strangled cry.

'How nice,' said Luna from beside Neville.

With her face covered by the goblet still, in what must have looked like the longest sip ever to have been taken, Cassy cast her attention to Ginny beside her. She had made no noise of joy or protest. She had barely moved, in fact. The only thing to have changed was a slight crinkle around her eyes as a gentle smile graced her freckled face. Absently, she stared at her breakfast.

Cassy restrained a sigh and lowered the goblet. Her eyes quickly moved to Luna, who had reached over the table to pat Harry's hand. She said, 'I didn't know you two liked each other, but given the amount of Wrackspurts you both have around your heads, I'm surprised you both realised you did. Well done.'

Ignoring the apparent infestation of tiny, invisible insects that distorted normal brain function – and the fact that she had once said they manifest through negative thought and all that implied about the pair – Cassy and Harry still smiled at their friend's odd congratulations.

Ginny suddenly laughed loudly. Further down the table, Ron stared from Cassy to Harry, mouth open and eyes wide, still as though petrified. He was only a few feet away and well within hearing distance of Luna's floaty voice.

'You two are dating?' he suddenly exclaimed.

Dean and Seamus jerked their heads up. The former beamed and winked at Cassy, while Seamus, who took a moment longer to recover from his shock, said, 'Good on you, mate! You're punchin' though.'

Dean elbowed Seamus, but Harry did not seem to care about the insult and laughed.

Ginny had still not said anything, yet somehow she did not need to. She turned and smiled, softer than the grin she had worn and no resentment was evident in her features. The same could not be said for the rest of the school, however. Ron's outburst had been heard up and down the Gryffindor table and while their House seemed generally quite ecstatic about the news, which Cassy found bizarre, not everyone felt as pleased or as proud as them.

By lunch, word had spread through fifth-year. Dumbledore's Army was the first to know with Ron having spread the news eagerly, happy to be the one with all the supposed knowledge. Hannah Abbot smiled shyly behind her hands while Ernie Macmillian pompously congratulated them both as though they had just announced their engagement. Lavender, Pavarti, and Padma each tried to haul Cassy away to interrogate her on how Harry had asked her – she was not sure where the assumption that he had come from, because really it was less of an ask and more of an understanding. She slipped away right into the waiting arms of Fred and George, who were determined to parade her and Harry around as though they were the proud parents of either or both. Cassy had smacked Fred sharply when he had introduced her to a random passing third-year as 'Mrs Potter'.

She did not see the need for all the fuss. She understood why Chang cared and had burst into instant tears at the news, and why Malfoy had turned a ghostly shade of white as Astoria impatiently informed him at dinner. He choked on air, spluttering so loudly he could still be heard over Cassy and Harry's roaring laughter. Yet, there was no reason in her mind that no one else should take such an interest, but they did. The entire school knew by the end of the week, with the exception of the teachers with the school-wide agreement that student-only gossip was not only friendlier, but funnier because as soon as teachers were involved there was room for the rumours to be disputed and stopped.

Harry no longer cared that the school spoke of him, because for once it was about something positive, something that made him smile to himself and made his girlfriend eye him suspiciously when he refused to tell her why. Even the strange rumours on how the pair had finally got together brought nothing but cheer; the consensus quickly rose that everyone had seen it coming and they found it quite hard to believe, particularly because of the sudden rush of interest, but no one was willing to admit it had been a surprise.

One rumour which did not take flight was probably the best rumour anyone had heard all year.

'I heard she's behind everything, you know,' said a second-year Hufflepuff.

Her Ravenclaw friend shifted. 'What do you mean?'

'Well, I heard from Patsy that Black wants power. Patsy said she corrupted him, it's her fault he's been saying You-Know-Who is back so everyone will love Harry Potter as some sort of saviour. Then, when he's popular and under her control, she can seize that power and takeover as the next Dark Lord!'

It did not matter that the idea was ludicrous or the fact that such a ploy would never work, Cassy and Harry had broken down into terribly loud laughter on the staircase. The two girls had scattered immediately, red-faced and panicked. They were in tears when they finally reached their lesson and had it not been Defence Against the Dark Arts, the pair would not have sobered for a long while after that.

Besides the occasional kiss and an eased atmosphere as all suspicion and doubt fled from between them, nothing really changed. Their relationship did not suddenly evolve into inseparable hugs, or blocking the corridor with a need to hold hands and touch at every available moment. Cassy hated the mere thought of it. Public displays were revolting to her, so unneeded. The only person who needed to know she cared was Harry. Perhaps he instinctively knew she would recoil at elaborate displays, because he never tried to make a show of their relationship. After being best friends for so long, he seemed to know her well enough, or perhaps he felt the same, totally unhindered by their lack of constant affections. Whatever it was, Cassy pushed to the corner of her mind as she forced the musings from her mind.

For the last fifteen minutes, Cassy and Harry had done nothing but stare at one another. Cross-legged, the pair were turned to one another as they sat on the scarlet sofas in the Gryffindor common room, simply staring. Ron and Ginny were watching them, waiting for something to happen, while Fred and George hovered irritatingly around them. They waved their hands and made continuously obnoxious noises in a vein effort to spur one of them into responding.

'That settle's that then,' said Fred with a long sigh. 'This just proves nothing can break the stare of true love.'

Without turning a fraction, Cassy reached out and smacked him.

Harry shuddered with supressed laughter.

As the twins ducked out of reach, Hermione finally set down her Arithmancy book and asked, 'What are you two actually doing?'

'Practising Occlumency,' said Harry. 'And Legilimency, but it's not really working.'

There was a faint buzzing in Cassy's mind. It had taken her a second to realise that it was not her to which the feeling belonged, but Harry. She had focused her magic on him and pressed forward, almost instantly felt a static connection and she had been unable to reach much beyond that. She could feel a surface emotion of irritation and a stronger one of wonder that she knew was not hers. A brief memory had surfaced, one of Quidditch, clouds surrounding a figure in red and rain that hammered down like beating drums.

She had pulled back after that and Harry had blinked, aware of her intrusion. His shoulders had squared as he readied himself again. This time, Cassy did not press beyond the surface of his mind. She waited for him to push her away and that was how they had come to the impasse they were at; she did not probe and he did not push.

Efforts to teach Harry Occlumency had redoubled after he and Cassy had finally got around to having the conversation he had approached her for on that Sunday afternoon. He was an inch from giving up, he told her. His mind ached. For all the lessons he had had, it only felt as though his mind was becoming weaker. He had had the dream every night; he walked down the same corridor, surrounded by the same silence, halting at the same point every time. Hermione had suggested it was like an illness, forced to be worse before it could be better. Neville had told him to sleep on his side; he always talked when he dreamt and he only dreamt when lying on his back. Ron had accused Professor Snape of purposefully weakening his mind for easier access and Cassy had mentally scolded him while she rolled her eyes. There was nothing to gain from that, she insisted. Even possessed by Voldemort, there was little harm Harry could do at Hogwarts.

'There was a faint buzz at one point,' mentioned Cassy. Harry had briefly shoved her too far back, almost as if attacking her mind instead, but it had shut off quickly and the feeling of his mind returned to her.

'That can sometimes happen in relationships,' said George. 'The spark just fizzles and dies.'

Ron and Ginny burst into laughter. Hermione hid her face behind her book and Cassy was certain she had heard even Neville snort somewhere behind her.

'Perhaps this is not working because Harry refuses to take it seriously,' drawled Cassy.

'You're the one who said I needed to build shields by clearing my thoughts. I can't do that and try hard,' he protested and grinned.

Ron stifled another laugh and Cassy merely narrowed her eyes.

'If neither of you are trained, this won't do a lot of good,' said Hermione.

'Theoretically, we know what we're doing,' replied Harry.

'We just need to practise, which we are not going to do with this noise,' added Cassy. She did not mention the fact that her eyes stung with a desperate need to blink and that they had long since become unfocused. 'Let's take a break, Harry, and I will make you a deal. If you blink before me you have to show me the parcel Blackjack gave you.'

'All right,' said Harry.

A short, sharp puff of air hit his face.

'I win,' said Cassy shortly. 'Show me.'

Harry scrunched his eyes closed and opened them widely, blinking away the scratchy dryness. For a moment, he stared at her in bewilderment, before scoffing. 'Cheater.'

'There were never any rules, so technically no.' Cassy unfolded herself and stretched like a cat in the summer sun. She slapped his knee. 'Hurry up.'

Harry huffed. 'All right, but I've not opened it myself yet, so I don't know what it is.'

In the fifth-year boys' dormitory, there was no illusion that any of them were tidy creatures. Cassy peered around at the piles of dirty clothes and books strewn across the wooden floor. The fire in the centre burnt brightly, which merely illuminated the poor state the five boys had left it in. She had never seen such a mess since stepping out of Grimmauld Place last summer.

Catching her mortified expression, Harry tried to push his mess under his bed with his foot.

'It's not normally this bad,' he insisted. 'We were messing around yesterday and yeah…'

He routed around in his trunk for a moment, before pulling out a brown parcel. He dropped down onto the bed and eyed it warily. Still within him was a deep fear that communicating with Sirius would only cause trouble. Despite Cassy's assurances that her father would manage and it would surely only cause him greater sadness to be out of contact, Harry had always ended the conversations with an uncertain frown. Slowly, he pulled to sting away and when the extra padding was pulled away, Cassy knew exactly what the rectangular gift was.

'A two-way mirror,' she declared thoughtfully. 'I wonder where he got that from?'

'I thought these were hard to get?' said Harry.

Cassy took the mirror from him. Light scratches littered the edges; the underside was also scratched as though having been handled a lot, some were deeper, tiny chips from having been dropped.

'He must have used them at school,' she deduced.

Frowning, Harry asked, 'Do you think this was my dad's?'

'It is possible,' said Cassy. 'Call him and find out.'

Harry stared at the mirror doubtfully. A distant fear still seemed to plague his mind that the more he spoke to Sirius, the more danger he was placing him in. He feared his Godfather's concerns would make him irrational if proved to be true, but what Cassy saw was the potential of making him much worse by isolating him. He could assume the worst on his own that way. Harry could always reassure him he was fine and Cassy was quite capable of presenting a convincing lie when he could not.

He turned to her grimly. 'No offense, but I don't want to have to be the one to tell Sirius.'

There was no doubt of what Harry was speaking of. Cassy had pondered the same conversation many times in the last week, theorising each outcome, which she usually assumed would be positive. It was another thing to admit they were dating openly to anyone without prompting, especially her father, so she shook her head and the two soundlessly agreed to tackle that issue another day, or potentially never depending on how long they could avoid the awkward confrontation.

There were no runes to begin a voice activation like Cassy and Harry's mirrors had. In fact, there was no obvious way to begin the call at all. However, when Harry lifted it close to his face an image flashed across the silvery surface and a face popped into view. He scrambled to catch the mirror as it jolted from his grip. When he looked again and Cassy had ducked into view, the smiling face of Sirius beamed back at them.

'I was wondering if you were going to call,' he said.

A visible layer of guilt swamped Harry.

'I was letting things settle for a bit first – to see how classes were going and stuff,' lied Harry.

Cassy was almost mildly impressed. His lying capabilities were getting better.

Sirius' eyes narrowed. 'How are classes with Snape?'

'Slow,' admitted Harry. 'I can't seem to clear my mind.'

'Don't worry about it. I began lessons over summer when I was thirteen. It's not an easy ability to learn, otherwise everyone would have it. The important thing is that you try, Harry. It's vital that you learn Occlumency,' said Sirius.

Harry was quiet for a moment and Cassy wondered if he was about to tell Sirius of the continuing dreams and their suspicions. He did not and instead asked if Kreacher was still acting oddly. Sirius shrugged back at him. Kreacher was still scrounging for heirlooms and he had not left the house since his last vanishing act. In fact, Sirius recalled with some pleasure, he had been more receptive to commands since he was sent away. Cassy frowned, but he brushed her concern aside.

'It's just the threat of being cast out of his favourite house,' said Sirius easily. 'You need to worry less.'

She did not respond to that. The conversation drifted onwards for the better part of half-an-hour before she became tired of the meaningless chatter.

'How are you, anyway?' she asked when there was a slight lull. They had left so soon after Professor Snape's insults that she had not had the opportunity to see how well her father handled them. It was clear that Harry was avoiding the topic of conversation too, unwilling to bring back old resentment once more.

'Fine,' said Sirius shortly.

'Has anyone been around lately?'

'No,' he said and the faintest sound of bitterness tinged his voice. 'Not a word.'

Cassy was silent for a moment. 'Do not let what Professor Snape said bother you. You offer stability and security to the Order. No one considers you a coward, you are the reason the Order can function so efficiently.'

'That's petty work,' grunted Sirius.

'Not everyone is a convicted mass-murderer,' said Harry sharply.

He huffed shortly and his eyes flickered upwards, as though he had been about to roll them but thought better of it. Every conversation they had it felt as though they were going in circles. It always came back to how Sirius was hauled away and unhappy. At least when he had been abroad he had been free enough to move about and travel amongst the faces of unfamiliar people in the tropics, surrounded by those who did not know his crimes. Cassy almost suggested he leave again. The Order had free access to his house and if he really wanted to be able to move easily then leaving Britain again would be the easiest answer. Of course, he never would. Voldemort had returned and with the current climate, she knew his sense of duty would not allow him to flee.

There was a definite decline in the pleasantness of the conversation after that. Although was not at all intended despite being expected, Harry's statement had hit a sore spot that her father was unwilling to disregard for the sake of an enjoyable moment with his daughter and Godson. The remainder of his words were tinted with a certain resentfulness. Even as he asked Cassy how she was and if she had settled back in after Christmas okay, he gave the impression he would rather end the call and brood alone.

Too stubborn to try and pacify him, Cassy fixed a fake smile on her face and told him everything was wonderful and she was much happier now. Her voice reached a pitch rarely used, one reserved for when her false niceties could not be maintained and her sarcastic retort battled through her wall of civility.

Sirius did the voice back to her. 'Good, good!'

Harry coughed and tried to turn the conversation around, but neither Cassy nor Sirius particularly felt like speaking any longer. It was always frustrating. Perhaps Harry had had the right idea about not contacting him.

* * *

With lace blue sleeves and a hem that ended just above her knees, Cassy had been careful to choose a dress that was neither too formal nor too casual. Silver earrings were pressed through her ears and her hair was in a braid that linked into a bun on the back of her head. Carefully, she inspected her appearance in the mirror.

'You look nice,' commented Hermione, smiling slyly.

Cassy ignored her. Instead she asked, 'What are your plans for the day?'

'The library, probably,' she said. 'I want to get a head start on next week's Arithmancy lessons.'

Cassy hummed. It was not as though Hermione had not already read the chapter thrice.

She descended the winding staircase down to the common room. It was alive with activity for Valentine's Day. Glistening hearts hung on the walls and the fire had even been charmed pink. Many of the boys were sharper dressed than at any other time of the year, checking their watches anxiously for just the right time to leave and meet their date.

The seats at the little table just beside the staircase were occupied by Harry and Neville. Harry had dressed carefully, his shoes were the ones Cassy had brought him for his birthday and his shirt was a bottle-green. He still wore jeans and his hair was a ruffled mess, but she was glad – she hated it when he tried to tame it. He stood quickly and smiled at her and the cogs of his brain were visibly trying to formulate a compliment.

'You look nice,' said Cassy, saving him the trouble.

'Thanks, er – you too.'

The four of them descended to breakfast. The way was littered with individuals waiting in pre-arranged places for their dates or those who hated the season and scowled at the sight of every couple they passed. She had never noticed the shire abundance of couples before, but then, she supposed, it had never really been of any interest. It was better than second year at any rate and anyone who had been at the school to remember it was still relieved every year when dwarfs in togas did not burst through the giant double doors to read poems aloud. Cassy would have teased Harry about his if it did not feel so cruel to Ginny. Even though she had shown no signs of resentment, she was still certain Ginny held feelings for Harry. There was something in the way she looked at him that Cassy had not seen in either Hermione or Luna.

At the teachers' table, Professor Umbridge did not stand out so sorely for once. Instead, she blended in well with the various festivities and it looked as though the Prefects in charge of decorating had purposefully gone out of their way to make everything as obnoxious as possible this year. Professor McGonagall refused to smile when the Headmaster strode into the room with hearts littered across his red robes, but a quick quirk of the lips was allowed when Professor Umbridge grunted in distaste.

Owls soon swooped overhead. The normal morning post had been and gone, the owls above were Hogwarts owls sent with the specific purpose of delivering cards. Each year there was a different method and this year owls with pink ribbons tied to their legs and small sachets across their bodies was the chosen method. It was tacky and sickening to see how festive the holiday had become, but with Professor Umbridge intent to destroy any semblance of fun from the school by the end of the year, everyone was taking great enjoyment from the ridiculous day. Even those without dates had found amusement in the scattered balloons and purposefully nauseating banners that were strung across the staircases.

An owl landed in front of Cassy. Tied to its leg was a small bundle of letters and three boxes of chocolates.

Harry blanched.

'Who are they from?' he demanded.

Cassy looked at him without inclining her head up again. 'Give me a chance and I will let you know.'

'That's more than you got last year,' commented Neville.

'Last year?' asked Harry.

'I only got three the year before,' said Cassy distantly as she ripped open her post.

'Three?'

Hermione laughed. 'You didn't think you're the only one to have noticed her, did you?'

'Cassy always gets Valentine's Day cards, although, they always seem to be from some Purebloods if the writing is anything to go by,' added Neville.

'It is more of a formality to send those cards,' said Cassy idly. 'I have never spoken to any of them that send me them. It is more because of my name and money they do that – to introduce themselves to me, if you will.'

'It's a bit like a courting invitation,' agreed Neville.

'What?' demanded Harry.

Cassy put down the letters and stared at him pointedly.

'No, tell me what you mean by that,' he said. He stared at the offending post with such intensity that Cassy could not help but laugh.

'You must understand, Harry, that I come from a very old, very traditional family. It was, and is to other noble families, expected that I find someone I might marry before leaving school. I should display an interest, as it were. My position as the direct heir – half-blood or not – of a not only noble, but ancient, family, puts me as a prime possession. I see anyone who approaches me in such a manner as someone who wants my money and not someone I would ever be interested in spending time with. Do not look so concerned,' she explained.

After second-year, Cassy had not even bothered to open the letters she received from the noble boys. She knew some of them from when she was young and some of them hated her and more than one of them she had been in some form of row or fight with before starting school. It was obvious that their letters were not their own doings, but that of their parents. Some still lived by the idea that if forced together, two people can often find a common connection and then a proper marriage can occur whereby they will all be honourable and happy. Cassy did not follow this thought at all and while many were content to let their own children find love, some did not and those ones were always obvious.

Hermione was openly scowling at Cassy as she always did when she heard of wizarding tradition.

'That's barbaric!' she protested. 'You can't just marry a woman off at seventeen to a man like a present for honour!'

Cassy scowled back. 'This is not the sixth-century, Hermione. Women are not seen to be beneath men. I don't know about Muggle society, but wizarding marriage is equal in law and in expectation. A woman is not a prize!'

She stared at her incredulously, unable to believe that Hermione would think such a thing. Legally, women had been equal for over one-thousand years. There was no magic that a man could do that a woman could not, they were magically equal in strength and intelligence and that was all that mattered.

'We have to agree. Some marry for love and some marry for power, but both parties agree,' said Cassy. She would admit some family pressures came into it occasionally, but it was not something that could be forced upon the bride if she did not allow it; Andromeda had certainly made her choice.

Hermione blinked slowly, seemingly in the same state of shock Cassy had been. 'It's a bit different in the Muggle world sometimes.'

Cassy hummed and slapped her hand down on the table to stop Harry stealing one of her letters.

'I'm curious,' he said quickly.

A solitary owl screeched overhead. Hermione's head whipped upwards and her face lit in anticipation as the brown owl swooped in front of her. With curious eyes, Cassy watched her friend's face flicker from nervousness to excitement. Hermione's lips pulled into a determined smile and she turned to Harry.

'I need to meet you today at one,' said Hermione quickly.

Harry blinked and glanced at Cassy. Almost unnoticeably, Cassy nodded in consent, more curious than irritated.

Hermione followed his gaze. 'Oh, you can bring Cassy too.'

Cassy had already intended to come along whether she was invited or not.

With the letter in hand, Hermione shot from the Great Hall. Only a moment later, Harry darted from the table and pulled Cassy with him as Ron began to loudly moan about Quidditch practice. He ran a hand irritably through his hair and Cassy waved to Neville.

The fresh air of February ghosted over their skin. They struggled to pull their winter coats as they strode over the cobbled pathway. Harry's eyes continuously glanced towards the Quidditch Pitch at the bottom of the hill where faint figures were already flying. He sighed heavily. Filch shot him a nasty look as he signed the pair out.

'I think we'd better call Puddlemere United and check if Oliver Wood has died in a training accident, because Angelina seems to be channelling his spirit,' commented Harry.

'Ron just needs one good game and he will stop complaining,' assured Cassy.

'I wish he would. I would kill to be able to play,' he said.

'The team just isn't the same without you,' she said dramatically, but Harry looked more pained than charmed. She shoved him. 'I am sure you will be back on the team next year. There is no way Professor Umbridge can remain in power with the war growing as it is. People will begin to realise the Ministry has it wrong and she will be removed.'

The two received many stares as they passed other groups on the way to Hogsmeade. Attention had been on them for almost two weeks as rumours circulated, but none stared quite as openly as Pansy Parkinson, who practically snarled like a dog the entire time they were within sight. If she had commented then Cassy would have retorted with one of the hundred sarcastic lines she had conjured at that moment, yet she stayed quiet and she was almost disappointed by it. She had been looking forward to hearing what degrading marks she would regurgitate from her cousin had made to earn a cheap laugh from the house of snakes.

Hogsmeade itself was busy. People filled the streets and the shopkeepers appeared to be making the most out of the spirit of young love as they advertised numerous Valentine events and merchandise. Cassy noted each produced with the same unenthused eye she had every year before. They were always pink or red, covered in hearts and over-priced with sentiments that would not last the year. She took Harry's hand and pulled him from where one of the elderly stall sellers had cornered him and forced a dozen red roses into his arms. They dropped to the floor and the seller screeched at them, her voice carrying all the way down the high street.

As Harry pushed open the door to a clothing store, they both noticed the wanted poster stuck on the glass. Every shop around them had one and in some windows renewed photographs of Sirius had been stuck beside them. The bell of the shop jingled and the assistant smiled at them. She watched them shop with a mixture of amusement and aghast as they picked up the most ridiculous items they could find, from yellow suspenders to floral bow-ties. Many pairs of socks were piled upon woollen hats and children's tops. The cashier smiled at them warily while he packed.

With a bag of presents purchased for Dobby for his help finding the Room of Requirement, the two set outside again. Rain poured down from the grey clouds that had gathered during their time inside. The promise of a warmer, drier day proved a far-away hope. People had fled from the streets into the nearby stores and Cassy and Harry walked down the empty cobbled streets with their hands laced together and their hoods up. Silently, they passed the stores in search of a tea shop or a place to sit. They drew to a halt outside a small, cramped shop that Cassy had noticed a few times on her trips.

Madam Puddifoot's was never a place she had entered, although it normally looked like a nice place to stop for a drink. It was always too small to fit the group into without some manoeuvring of tables, so she had never bothered to suggest it. Now, when there was just her and Harry she was tempted to step inside, but the moment she looked through the window her mind changed. Instead of the old brown brickwork and little tables that gave the shop an old, rustic charm, the seats had ribbons tied to their backs and colourful tablecloths across every surface. Glitter fell from the ceiling and candles hovered above the tables, undeniably scented. Couples sat throughout the room, holding hands or kissing in displays of affection that had Cassy's brain instructing her to avert her eyes, as though it were she who had stepped into an intimate moment and not them who were fiercely kissing publicly.

She turned to Harry, who eyed her with wide eyes and a bright smile. It was a peculiar expression that made it seem like she had just ridden the school of Umbridge and killed Voldemort all in a single motion; a look of utter adoration.

Cassy blanched. 'You don't actually want to go in there, do you?'

'God, no,' he laughed. 'It looks like Umbridge's office.'

'That is what I thought!'

'I was smiling because I realised how lucky I was that I have a girlfriend who isn't interested in cute tables and sequin hearts,' he said and shivered at the explosive display.

'It normally looks quite nice, but that is ghastly,' she muttered as they began to walk up the road once more. It was not that Cassy was adverse to cute things, but she was beginning to be forced to realise her notion of romance did not quite live up to that of her peers. She did not want hearts and bears with sentimental messages scrawled across them. She loved flowers and chocolates, but would be pleased with whatever she was given, but the idea of showering love for one day and them continuing on as normal seemed redundant. She had never entirely understood the holiday and even with a boyfriend, albeit one she had only had for less than two whole weeks, she still did not feel the allure of demonstrating to everyone how much she cared for one day a year.

That did not seem to matter to Harry either. In fact, he seemed overjoyed at the prospect as he hurriedly dragged her from the frilly décor and down a beaten pathway. Eyebrows raised higher and higher as they left the dreary village behind and headed into a darkened woodland. Finally, when there was nothing but the distorted sound of rain on the leaves high above, Cassy curiously asked where they were going.

'There is one thing we always said we wanted to do and never did,' said Harry.

Before she could ask, the woods began to thin and there in the distance stood a faint, wonky structure alone on the hillside.

'Visit the Shrieking Shack,' she grinned.

They climbed over the rotten wood fence and navigated their way through the overgrowth, thorns and wet grass crossed their legs, tugging and tearing as the heavy downpour made it difficult to see far in front of them and the slicked grass proved treacherous to stand upon without slipping and sliding down the slope. Slightly cut and dirtied by the descent, the pair sprinted to the rickety door on the far side. It swung open with a great crash, unhinged on the top with a doorknob missing on the outside. The windows were all boarded up. Dim light filtered through the warped wood, illuminating the creaky, uneven stairs. With each gust of wind outside, the house seemed to shudder and a moan erupted from deep within the stomach of the structure.

The first floor had a dusty living room, void of any furniture besides an old dresser and a sofa that had had the stuffing mauled out of it and spread thinly across the floor. Deep scratches marred the solid floors and the faded drapes had been shredded, their rails almost ripped from the wall.

The bedroom opposite was in much the same state. The once glorious four-poster bed had teeth marks in it, giant teeth at that. A large mirror was cracked, thin brown hair stuck between the fractures.

The pair sauntered and rooted through the dilapidated house. Anything of value had long since been taken, although beneath the bed Harry found an old Chaser's glove and down the side of the sofa was several silver Sickles. Under the stairs was an old stone set of steps that stretched far underground. They shoved each other into going first until Cassy suddenly agreed and hopped into the darkness. Shocked, Harry jumped after her and pushed his way ahead anyway, his wand lit but was of little use. They were unable to see more than an arms-length in front of them. The tunnel continued on and on, rats scuttled by and the moans of the shifting house above echoed hauntingly around them. Harry was forced to stoop as the ceiling began to lower and then, in the distance, a small, dim light appeared.

When the two poked their heads out the end of the tunnel, they found themselves looking up at the castle. Rain still drizzled outside, but a crowd had gathered in the distance around the tiny forms of Fred and George who appeared to be capitalising on the in and out coming stream of students and had a full array of their products on display. Several scarlet glad figures wandered through the stone archway and Harry sighed deeply again.

'You know, it's not that bad that you are banned really, otherwise we would not have come here today,' muttered Cassy.

'That's true,' he said and smiled lightly at her. 'I still miss it though.'

'Come next year I am sure you will wish you were not on the team. You never know, you could be Captain.' She winked and Harry rolled his eyes.

'Life ban, remember?'

Cassy ignored him. Once Professor Umbridge was exposed, there would be no possible way that the ban would remain and Harry would be free to compete as he wished. Instead, they continued to watch the twins sell their products. They were growing restless, she noticed, their efforts had faded entirely from school work and was now concentrated on their growing business. The money Harry had gifted them had allowed them far more freedom and Cassy would be surprised if the pair returned next September to complete their NEWTs. Their business would do well, although the climate hardly seemed appropriate for such things.

The tiny hands on the clock necklace Cassy always wore ticked round.

'It is twelve-fifty-three,' she said calmly.

Harry made a non-committal noise. She stared patiently and his eyes visibly widened. He swore loudly.

'Hermione's meeting!'

Despite not knowing what the meeting was for, only knowing that Hermione was very excited about it, the two set off quickly back down the tunnel. It would have been quicker to walk back up to the castle and back to Hogsmeade again, but they would have to think of an excuse to get past Filch again, especially as he had not signed them in. The hill proved even more difficult to climb than they had been to descend. There were many slips and slides, huffs and curses and several threats as they precariously leant on one another as leverage for better footing.

They walked as quickly as possible to the Three Broomsticks without running. They dusted themselves down before entering, although there was nothing that could be done for the scrapes on Cassy's legs and no amount of tissue could clear the slick mud from Harry's shoes. A blast of hot air met them as the door jingled open. Three giant fires burnt brightly and warmly, all of the tables seemed occupied and it took several moments of scanning for the pair of them to spot Hermione, Neville, and Luna on a table far in the corner. As they pushed through the throng of people waiting at the bar, then, suddenly, Cassy noticed another person at the table. With her hood drawn up, Rita Skeeter sat beside Luna with an obvious glare of contempt.

Cassy smirked. So Hermione was truly capable of good blackmail if she really wanted it and for such a useful objective; she was impressed.

'That's the unlikeliest pair of drinking mates I could ever have imagined,' muttered Harry.

'You're late!' called Hermione when she finally spotted them approaching.

'Sorry,' said Harry distantly. His focus was on Skeeter, who smiled predatorily up at him. She wore the same horn-rimmed glasses, though several stones were missing from the corners, and her hair was still curled and blonde, longer than before and unkempt. Her nails were chipped as they drummed impatiently on the table. Unemployment had not served her well.

Hermione clapped her hands together eagerly. 'I asked you all to meet here today, because I thought it would be good if Harry did an article for the Quibbler about what really happened that night.'

There was a resounding silence.

'That will never work,' scoffed Skeeter.

'Holes in the Daily Prophet had already been pointed out and everyone's talking about it. All we need to do now is prove to them how ludicrous the paper is by giving the real story.' Hermione's eyes paused briefly on Cassy, inspecting her reaction as she spoke of the articles. 'Consider this the final nail in the coffin of the Prophet.'

Harry pursed his lips and Skeeter huffed loudly at the sight of Hermione's intimidating stare.

Luna merely sipped Butterbeer through a straw, her legs swung beneath the table as she hummed happily at the stiffly agreed exchange. Her father's paper was about to sell out.

* * *

**This was supposed to be up yesterday, but I hated the beginning, so I rewrote it. **

**This is just mostly about Cassy and Harry's new relationship. Cassy is not the type for public affections and Harry is watched enough and criticised that he doesn't seem to be overly the type either, at least, not like Ron and Lavender are in sixth year. What I was really trying to get across is that Cassy is just not fussed about relationships. She's happy because she has one, but she is just not the type to care if she doesn't. Rowling once said Sirius was the same. Very attractive and with lots of attention, but he was too busy being rebellious to really notice. Cassy is all about progress and intellect.**

**However, her and Harry are cute (I have to say that. I write them!). I was overwhelmed by the reviews for the last chapter! I'm so glad that it was so well received.**

**Also, I made up the part about witches and wizards being equal and I will tell you why I think this would be true and that's because in the magical world, there was no difference between men and women in terms of education or ability to establish a school and therefore probably careers were also more equal very early on. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were supposed to be very powerful and respected women, who would take anyone who conformed to their preferred traits. This was not a school for boys, or girls to a certain age. It was for everyone. Real schools were not like that at all.**

**Even though they have a clear upper-class system, there is no evidence that these women do not work. I'm not even sure canonically what Lucius Malfoy does, or if he even works. I write him with a job in mind, but I think both he and Narcissa mooch around all day being rich, rather than working. They all wear robes, although I prefer how the films presented uniform, so there is no argument over gendered clothing or propriety with that. I see a lot more equality in gender status and I like the make the world a bit more separate from the Muggle one. There is enough blood tension going on, I don't think the community, even a thousand years ago, could afford to discriminate against pure-blood women by putting them down.  
**

**Anyway, feel free to review.**

**Thanks!**


	25. Seeking and speaking

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXV: Seeking and speaking**

The week following the meeting was tedious at worst and slow at best. Every day at breakfast the group would watch the owls fly in overhead with anticipation, only to be disappointed each time they failed to swoop and deliver the finalised version of the article. The only distraction from the growing impatience that was building was the knowledge that Malfoy was only a few days from breaking. He sneered at her openly when she was and was not looking, he would purposefully bump shoulders with her in the hall when there was clearly room to manoeuvre, and he had developed an array of new insults that had made Cassy clap in congratulations for his brain still functioned on some level then, even if his Transfiguration homework suggested otherwise.

He had turned scarlet at that and a fight had broken out, but otherwise Cassy was pleased with the progress. He would have to break soon and talk – or even shout – about his feelings whether he wanted to or not.

She had spotted Zabini around more than usual too, although she theorised it may have been to keep an eye on Malfoy for his own amusement more than anything else. Cassy had even had the delight of engaging in a particularly tense conversation with Daphne, who had taken to accompanying her friend often now, but Cassy knew that was for entirely different reasons. Daphne Greengrass loathed her friendship with her younger sister with a barely restrained passion. That had only made Astoria cling to Cassy, her arm around her neck in an unusual closeness, whenever her older sister was near and Cassy did not care enough to throw her off, even when her own housemates grumbled every time.

The nights were often occupied with creating new articles for Plum to hide around the school. Her effort had doubled since the responsibility of destroying the papers had fallen to the Heads of Houses. Professor Flitwick loudly spoke of his embarrassment of having found so many in the Ravenclaw common room, before he scattered them across the floor of the entrance hall with a loud, sarcastic shout of surprise. He declared it the fault of his untied shoelace, stooped to correct the already tightly knotted shoe, before feigning surprise that once again all the papers had been taken from the ground and hidden by passing students.

Even Professor McGonagall's spirits had lifted since Christmas. It seemed the lower Professor Umbridge's sunk, the more enjoyment Professor Umbridge took from her day. Professor Snape seemed not to recognise their existence at all unless Professor Umbridge had stopped his students specifically. Cassy had been stopped three times in two days and she mentally scoffed each time. She did not need to carry the articles around because she knew what they said off heart and it was only when she had slipped a copy from Neville's pocket into her own as he moved to be searched that she bothered to tell her friends she was responsible for them at all.

'Do not carry them on you,' she muttered on the way to class. 'It is not worth being caught with them.'

'I knew it was you,' said Hermione, satisfied.

'I had a theory,' agreed Harry.

'Me too,' said Neville brightly, 'but I thought you would have told us by now.'

Harry snorted at that and Cassy ignored him.

'How are you getting them all over the castle in a single night?' asked Hermione as she eyed her friend shrewdly.

Surprisingly, Hermione did not seem to mind that Plum was the one distributing the leaflets. There was a certain concern for her safety now that house-elves had been ordered to bin any copies they found during their nightly cleans, but Cassy had already pulled the tiny elf aside and forced her to promise that her safety came first before Cassy's orders. Plum had squirmed and cried; she threw herself onto the floor and sobbed for forty-minutes before she slunk away again back to her duties. She had been particularly careful with her placement from them on. House-elves rarely missed a spot in need of a clean, so it was the underside of tables, between books, and in the freshly laundered clothes delivered to the end of the beds in the early hours that began to accumulate papers.

Agitated by the lack of progress and the new articles published that morning, Professor Umbridge paced up and down her classroom. At the slightest sound her bulbous head whipped around she would fixed them with a nasty smile as she deducted points again and again.

When she slowly doubled around each of Cassy, Harry, Neville, and Hermione's desks, Cassy turned to Harry with a smirk. He smirked back. Their Professor was checking their handwriting for likeness. After the fourth time, she doubled back round to her desk, unable to blame them.

It was a hopeless endeavour, Cassy made sure of it, but another hopeless effort was the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She had only been interested in it because Harry played and she had wanted to cheer on one of her only two friends. Since then, it had just grown into a habit, however, Cassy was glad for her lack of interest in it with the abysmal state the team was in. They lost their match on Sunday, only by ten points, but that was only because Ginny had managed to catch the Snitch; they had been one-hundred and thirty points behind before that. All through the match Harry tried hard to smile. Several times they had seen Professor Umbridge turn to their stand with brass binoculars pressed against her beady eyes and so Harry tried to smile through the horror of the abysmal show just to rile her, but as soon as the whistle blew, his smile slipped.

Ginny shrugged off the defeat. She said she had known they were going to lose before she had set foot on the pitch. Ron, on the other hand, entered a depression so deep that nothing anyone said got through to him. In the darkest corner of the common room he sat by himself, his feet dragged on every occasion and he hardly ate. It was an unfathomable mood over a sport, but even Fred and George watched him mope with sympathy. After a while, Hermione perched on the edge of the table and muttered something to him. The two had become curiously close since becoming Prefects and Cassy keenly kept their interactions under observation.

When Hermione seemed to be getting nowhere with Ron, Cassy turned her attention to the other slouching Weasley. Ginny's long hair was ruffled and free from its ponytail, her goggles hung around her neck and she still donned her scarlet jersey. Leather gloves had been slapped down on the table in front and her fingernails dug deeply into their soft hide as the hem was rolled between her fingers.

'You are upset,' observed Cassy as she took the seat beside her.

Ginny huffed loudly.

Cassy eyed her friend up and down. 'And it is clearly not the match that has you upset. I know you knew you were going to lose before you stepped on the pitch. Did something happen between you and Michael Corner?'

Sighing again, Ginny glared half-heartedly. 'Sometimes I hate how much of a know-it-all you are.'

'You frown a lot after talking with him,' she admitted.

'Yeah, I suppose I do,' sighed Ginny. 'He said that because we lost Hufflepuff and in with a chance to win the cup. He seemed to think I should have won the match to make Ravenclaw's match next week easier by beating Hufflepuff today. He just went on and on about it. It's not like we didn't try.'

'That's very shallow of him then if that is what makes him cross. Your match had nothing to do with him. Besides, you should have been trying to win for your own team, not to satisfy him,' said Cassy.

'Tell me about it,' snorted Ginny, her chin on her hand. 'Anyway, how are you and Harry?'

Cassy took a second to carefully observe Ginny's stance. It was more difficult than normal because of her already downtrodden expression, but she could not help but feel there was a slight note of resentment in her tone.

'It's fine. Three weeks is not really long enough to gauge a relationship well,' she replied and Ginny hummed in response.

'I suppose not. If you two hadn't told us then I probably wouldn't have noticed anything had changed. Besides the occasional kiss, you don't act any different. I already knew the two of you were really close,' she said.

'Not much has changed. The difference is more just the title, I suppose,' acknowledged Cassy. She would not complain though, there had been nothing she wanted to change.

Ginny picked up her gloves and fiddled with them idly. Her eyes glazed and her shoulders slumped a fraction further. Then, without warning, her head levelled again and she smiled brightly.

'It must be great to date someone who has been your close friend for years. No surprises and whatever.'

Alarm bells tolled in Cassy's mind and she frowned lightly. The smile was pinched in the corners, her eyes untouched. A faint shade of red spilt onto her cheeks beneath the dense layer of freckles and Cassy was once again reminded that Ginny was not an utterly unflappable creature. She knew she would care. She knew it and it was what had made her so reluctant to approach Harry to begin with. She feared his rejection, of course, but the knowledge of actively perusing her friend's long-standing crush had seemed cruel and unfair. Perhaps it was selfish of her to peruse him and accept his confession, her mind supplied, but now she had him she was very much unwilling to let him go again.

'Ginny,' she said gently.

'No, no,' cut in Ginny quickly, smiling again. 'I know what you're going to say and I don't want to hear it. I'm not bitter or upset, not really. I'm glad, actually. I would rather it be you than someone like Cho. I guess I always kind of knew it would be you, because when you got together I wasn't surprised, not at all, even though I didn't really ever think you thought of him like that. I suppose I must have on some level though.'

She shook her head as if clearing her thoughts. Her smile was still pinched at the edges, though her eyes held less pain and more of a simple sorrow than before. At no point did it cross Cassy's mind to apologise for allowing Harry to cultivate feelings for her. Ginny would not want it and Cassy would not mean it. Instead, she gently pried the gloves from her friend's hands and placed them back between them, forcing Ginny to still with nothing left to avoid her gaze with.

'You will find someone better than Michael Corner. Someone who is humorous and selfless and will make you smile instead of frown. You deserve better than what he is willing to give you,' she said.

This time, Ginny's face melted into a softer smile, her shoulders lax and her eyes bright. She then grinned and said, 'Yeah, I know. I was thinking that I might be done with him anyway. All he does is complain about Quidditch.'

Cassy smiled approvingly. She knew Harry and Ginny would have been good together if given the chance, she had acknowledged it for a while. A surge of pride hit her when she looked at Ginny's jovial face. It had been painful at night when images of Harry and Ginny together would creep unto Cassy's mind. She could have screamed and cursed her, it would be nothing unexpected, and instead Ginny nodded her head and had congratulated them. It meant a lot to know she accepted and supported it, whatever it might be or if it would lead anywhere at all.

* * *

A letter from Tonks invited Cassy back to hers for Easter. She said that if she wanted to return then her parents would like to see her again. Cassy scoffed. There was very little chance Andromeda wished to see her. After quickly reading Tonks' instruction not to panic about her exams, Cassy set the letter down and turned to her arguably more interesting piece of post: The Quibbler. Although Cassy would normally disregard anything the paper said to be fact, she eyed the front page with genuine interest. Harry's story was accompanied by a photograph of him Luna had taken outside the Three Broomsticks. The headline swirled: 'He Speaks at Last: Harry Potter's Account of You-Know-Who's Return'.

Luna had slapped a copy down on the table before post arrived and Harry had spent much of the meal meticulously mulling over the article. The Quibbler was not a popular paper by any means, but once word spread, they were confident the whole castle would have read it by the end of the week. By the time the owls carrying the newspapers had made it up to the castle, the rest of Britain had already received their papers and had written in a dozen letters to Harry. Cassy glanced through them for him. Many were positive, although some were adamant he was an attention-seeking liar.

'She's done a fair job,' commented Ginny, surprised.

'She actually wrote what I said,' agreed Harry, finally putting the article down.

Fred and George had shuffled up the table and were reading Cassy's copy with raised eyebrows.

'Harry,' said George slowly, 'this is…'

'Yeah,' said Harry.

'No wonder you didn't tell us,' muttered Fred.

'Do not get too comfortable, we are on Pink Alert now,' drawled Cassy.

Fred shoved the newspaper under the table, just before a great shadow was cast over them. Glaring, Harry looked up at her, his paper gripped tightly in his fists. Her wide mouth was pressed into a thin line and her fat hands were linked in front of her seemingly pleasantly.

'What's that?' she asked, sweetly.

'I finally told the truth,' said Harry coolly. 'I did what you said and I didn't tell lies.'

'Mr Potter, you are now banned from Hogsmeade visits. You clearly cannot be trusted to act in a mature manner. Fifty points from Gryffindor and a week of detentions, I think – for lying to the nation,' she commanded icily.

No one said anything as she snatched the newspaper from his hands and strode off with it as quickly as her short legs could carry her.

As soon as Professor Umbridge was gone from the room, a large stack of papers were pulled from beneath the table and distributed to the fifth-year Gryffindors and Fred and George. Harry did not seem to care that he had been banned from Hogsmeade, it was not as though they could not easily sneak him from the castle anyway. Dean and Seamus read the paper with Ron's ongoing narration, while Ginny relocated to her friends in her year to share the news with them. Pavarti ran to her sister, Padma, at the Ravenclaw table and Cassy dropped a copy in front of Stephen as she and her friends left for Herbology.

A great boisterous laugh echoed through the hall. Cassy, Harry, Neville, and Hermione turned to see Ginny beaming beside the notice board. She pointed to a large, yellow sign.

'She's banned it! Isn't that awesome?' she said.

'How is that a good thing?' asked Harry, unsurprised but irritated.

'If people are not allowed to read it, it means they'll be even more interested!' cheered Hermione.

Word had spread by lunch. The questions that Cassy had carefully laid for the last few months burst into new life. Luna and Dean had both lost their copies as passing students stole them from their bags and Harry's official story caused such disruption that the teachers were finding it difficult to teach around the barrage of demanding enquiries shot at Cassy, Neville, and Hermione; no one seemed brave enough to ask Harry directly. Professor Sprout sat back and allowed it, occasionally giving a weak order to resume work between flicking through a magazine. Luna had received dozens of orders for the paper by dinner.

'I should have done this ages ago,' marvelled Harry. The stares had increased, but people did not sneer so often anymore, even the Professors gave him extra points for ridiculous achievements and Professor McGonagall even smiled at him when he had blasted a toad clear off the desk.

'Can you get more copies in the common rooms by tomorrow?' whispered Hermione to Cassy.

Cassy nodded. 'Of course, but I will only do a few. If we have too many it might look like we are pushing the idea on them and it might draw some resistance. Besides, Luna had eighty-three requests for copies earlier. I think people will manage.'

People did manage to find their own copies too. By lunch the next day, Professor Umbridge was routinely searching bags, the threat of expulsion lingered over the heads of everyone with a copy, but it just meant that the students charmed them to look like spare parchment, or transfigured them into other objects entirely. Everyone was talking about it behind cupped hands, feverish glances at Harry at every turn and for once he did not care. His spirit brightened immensely at the new found support he seemed to be gathering.

Uproar sounded from Dumbledore's Army when Harry cancelled their meeting that night because of his detention. His story only provoked the urge for action and Cassy kissed him good luck, certain that all of Professor Umbridge's rage would be centred on Harry that night.

Cassy spent the evening in the library with Stephen and Astoria, hiding from the bustle of the group's new found popularity. The questions had been novel at first, satisfying to finally see people's opinions vocally changing, but they had become tiresome and repetitive quickly. Professor Umbridge was one step away from giving them all detentions, even when they fell quiet in her presence and pointedly ignored the hurried questions. Besides, there was not much Cassy could say beyond what Harry had admitted in the paper. Stephen and Astoria did not approach the topic of the newspaper, instead they teased her for fifteen-minutes mercilessly about her new relationship. She had not got around to telling them, uncaring if they knew or not. She ignored them, before turning to Stephen with half-lidded eyes.

'Asked Faulks out yet?'

Stephen shrugged. 'I haven't liked her for a while. I thought I did, but then I began speaking to this girl in my year, a Hufflepuff called Nadira around Christmas. You never asked, so I never said.'

'You never asked about Harry and me,' Cassy protested, but Stephen grinned.

'Yeah, but you having a boyfriend is funny,' he said.

Cassy frowned and Astoria giggled.

'On to more important news, Shandy has dropped off the face of the Earth.' Stephen leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms. He met Cassy's eye with a slight frown. 'He speaks to me in class, but only occasionally. He's much more civil, though still conceited and somewhat of a jerk. He never asks after you anymore either. What happened?'

Cassy was silent.

'He's been the talk of the House too,' added Astoria when it became apparent Cassy would not reply. 'They think he might be a bit depressed because of his family at Christmas. It's no secret it is always tense.'

'It began before that,' said Stephen, shaking his head. 'He even broke up with his girlfriend before the holidays. He's been slipping into the background a bit this term.'

While Stephen was visibly disconcerted by the event, Cassy was unconcerned. Thoughts spun gently in her head, asking if it was perhaps possible that Shandy had learnt that hateful words could have disastrous repercussions. It pleased her in a way she would not admit to. Another thought sounded that perhaps she was giving herself too much credit and that there was a family issue behind his changes, but she doubted it, although that might have been simply hope. It might make it easier to converse with him as planned.

Then again, she pondered, if he is no longer asking after me then perhaps he would not be so keen to chat. Then again, he was hardly the first Slytherin to avoid it.

'Astoria, how is my darling cousin fairing?' she asked suddenly.

Astoria hummed. 'A little more cheerful lately, to tell you the truth. He rather likes Umbridge, he goes on about how great her detention policies are.' She had her cheek propping her head up in her hand, the other hand doodling idly.

Cassy cursed inwardly. It meant she would have to try harder to lure him into a conversation if he was content.

'He was annoyed though, about the article, I mean. Everyone in Slytherin has read it and naming and shaming the suspected Death Eater's like Potter did cause huge issues this morning. Some people wanted to disagree, Malfoy included, but saying something is to admit they read the article and it's against Professor Umbridge's rules. He is quite furious about that.'

For the first time in her life, Cassy did not feel the slightest twinge of sympathy that her cousin's family was being criticised.

'My sister has not said anything to me about it,' continued Astoria, frowning. 'She will not speak about the Death Eaters at all to me and instead tells me not to worry. She told me not to talk to you anymore, actually, again. She seems to think it will get me into trouble, but I don't really see the fuss about Muggleborns and neither does she, so I do not really understand her problem.'

Cassy understood it all too well and from the look on his face, Stephen did too. It was not a matter of blood purity, but about safety. Guilty by association was how Voldemort had famously worked.

Astoria continued to doodle. 'Her friend Blaise just read it quietly and told Pansy Parkinson to be quiet when she started screeching about it. Most people are holding their opinions quiet secret though.'

Cassy hummed thoughtfully at the news, her mind already thinking of new ways to invoke a long overdue conversation with her dear cousin.

* * *

**Bridging chapter. Not a lot happens in this, I suppose, so it's not the best. Sorry about that. I will not be able to update in the next two weeks because I have a lot going on, so you can have two short chapters today instead. The other will be up later when I've read through it. **

**I went to Harry Potter World in London on Thursday, that was pretty cool. I brought Luna's wand and the tour guide at the start was terribly boring because there is nothing she could tell me that I did not already know. Otherwise it was really good. I really wanted one of the Weasley twins' wands, but you could only buy them as a pair for £70… I recommend going though as they have a lot of the authentic props and things there where you won't get in ones abroad. **

**Anyway, thank-you for all the lovely reviews from the last chapter. They cheered me up a lot.**

**Thanks!**


	26. News and the new professor

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXVI: News and the new professor**

March brought in clearer weather, a slight breeze and new buds on the early sprouting flowers of spring. The snow had fully melted and the fresh green grass pushed stubbornly through the trampled mud that surrounded the cobbled courtyard. On one of the stone benches perched Cassy and Hermione, a jar of gently flickering blue flames between them. They were inclined to one another, their voices quiet as they discussed Harry's latest vision. For once it was not in the Department of Mysteries, but rather an unspecified space. Rookwood had informed Voldemort that Bode had resisted Lucius' Imperious curse, he knew he would not be able to collect whatever was inside the department.

There was still no hint of what it was they were after; it merely confirmed that Bode had been acting against his will.

'He needs to be careful,' sighed Hermione. 'I know it's useful, but he can't let him in his head.'

'I go over Occulmency nearly every night with him, but when I think we might have improved, he has a lesson with Professor Snape and he seems to reset again. He tramples over whatever defences Harry does possess,' said Cassy.

'If Professor Dumbledore trusts him – '

'That does not mean he is a good teacher,' interrupted Cassy flatly. 'He might not be a Death Eater, but he is an appalling teacher. He should not even work here as it is, let alone teaching Harry such a difficult art. He has no patience.'

The doors of the castle shook. They were thrown open and a sharp shriek echoed through the stone halls. Cassy and Hermione stood quickly. Two trunks skidded across the uneven paving. Professor Trelawney scurried out after them, sobbing, an empty bottle of sherry in one hand and the other clasping her shawl tightly. She turned, her ridiculous glasses magnifying her tears.

'You can't do this!' she cried.

'Umbridge,' muttered Hermione.

People gathered in the doorway, loud whispers and excited stares. They were pushed aside by Professor McGonagall, who hurried to Professor Trelawney's side. She gripped her shoulders tightly as the other sobbed loudly.

'This cannot be happening. I've worked here for years, I served this school with everything I had! You can't repay me this way!' she wailed.

Professor McGonagall muttered something in her ear, but Cassy's attention shifted to the sudden pink mass that emerged through the sea of black. Professor Umbridge stood proudly in the doorway, a wide grin on her face. She wrung her hands together in excitement.

'Your pitiful performance over the year is what lead to this. Surely you understand?' she said, sweetly.

'This is my home,' protested Trelawney.

'Was,' corrected Professor Umbridge. 'Now, get your things off the grounds and be gone with you.'

Professor McGonagall pushed Trelawney behind her. 'She will not be going anywhere because she is not leaving.'

'On whose authority?' asked Professor Umbridge, tartly.

'Mine,' came a low, calm voice.

Behind Professor McGonagall was the Headmaster. His arms were folded in front of him, perfectly pleasant in appearance. He was drawn to his full height, dwarfing Professor Umbridge, although she did not seem to notice.

'Need I remind you that the Ministry had decreed that the dismissal and appointment of the staff are to be dictated by the Ministry through the High Inquisitor,' she said sweetly.

'Yes,' said Professor Dumbledore, 'but the power to banish individuals from the premises remains with me. Minerva, please escort Sybil back inside.'

Hermione laughed quietly under her breath, 'Serves her right.'

'In fact, I have already found a replacement teacher. Her lodgings will not be required.' The Headmaster held out a hand to the far side of the courtyard. 'May I introduce Firenze.'

Following the motion, Cassy turned behind her and set eyes on a handsome face, leading down to a bare chest and, oddly, a horse body. The name was familiar, although the white-blond hair was not and the brightest, blue-eyes stared at them uncertainly. He was centaur Harry had met in first-year that had saved him in the Forbidden Forest, she realised. She remembered how obscure they had been when responding to Hagrid's questions, furthermore, he was not human and would not bow to the Ministry's demands.

'I think Professor Dumbledore has done this to spite her,' she muttered and Hermione giggled.

'I hope you find him most suitable,' said Professor Dumbledore, smiling, before returning inside with Firenze at his side.

Whispers and laughs broke out amongst the students. A figure pushed through the crowd and ran over to Cassy and Hermione just as Professor McGonagall and Trelawney passed Professor Umbridge, who stood stunned and alone.

Harry skidded to a halt, demanding to know what had happened. When they had explained, the conversation quickly turned to his latest Occulmency lesson. He grimaced.

'He's angry with me. He found out about the dream,' he said, just as the girls had suspected he would. He looked to Cassy seriously. 'He was repulsed when he found out we were dating.'

Cassy stared for a moment, before the pair of them grinned and began to laugh loudly.

* * *

Firenze was much more popular than anyone had anticipated. Since he had been appointed two days ago, he was the talk of the school, although he was hardly ever seen outside of his classroom. He did not attend meals and as he did not sleep in the castle, he was occasionally seen retreating to the Forbidden Forrest. It raised questions of his herd. They were known to be quite unfriendly to humans at the best of times and loathed anything seen to be subservience and Cassy was certain employment came under that category. They had a tendency to be violent when displeased with a herd member and Cassy spent the first evening reading about their culture. No one else seemed to mind his unusual heritage. Most of the girls did not even bother to hide their attraction to him; Hermione, however, took issue with him having four legs.

'You know,' said Ron idly, 'I wonder if everyone would still fancy him if he had the face of a horse and the lower end of a man? I mean, that has what counts, right?'

Hermione snorted loudly; she blushed when several heads turned to her in the corridor. Ron grinned down at her.

Cassy rolled her eyes, but before she could sarcastically respond a firm hand grasped her upper arm and she was hauled in another direction. She made a noise of surprise and Harry rounded instantly. Quickly, she waved her hand to assure him it was fine, though he did not look pleased to let her go, his wand half-way out his pocket. Several curious eyes followed her down the hall. She allowed herself to be pulled backwards down until they rounded into a darkened corner and she sharply tugged her arm from Draco Malfoy's vice-like grip.

His grey-eyes glared down at her, his teeth grinding harshly like a washer woman scrubbing at a stubborn stain. He had grown since she had last stood that close to him. He was not as tall as Harry, but taller than he had been by several inches; his skin was still pale and his hair was slightly longer than it was once deemed acceptable to be.

'I did not think you would sink low enough to spread rumours,' he hissed, undeterred by her critical stare.

Cassy grinned lazily. 'I'm not the only one though, am I? There were some lovely rumours about my mother going around in first term.'

He sneered. 'Heard that from Astoria Greengrass, did you? Don't think I have failed to notice how she follows you like a lost puppy. Since when have you two been so close?'

The image of Astoria trailing after anyone like a puppy was laughable, let alone for her focus to be Cassy. Astoria was more like a peacock, proud and ostentatious, or like a lion, watchful and prowling. Still, Cassy did not let her amusement show and kept her casual grin fixed in place.

'I don't believe that is any of your business anymore, Draco, dear. You made that quite clear,' she commented. 'I must say, I thought you would appreciate the battle to be fought on the terms you set, lies and all, rather than a sharp hex and being forcibly dragged through the grounds and drowned in the lake until you gain some sense about you. All that Death Eater nonsense might wash out, you see.'

'What do you want, Black?' he bit out.

Cassy surveyed him with unfeeling eyes. 'What did your parents tell you about me this summer that made you see me so differently?'

'This again? My parents did nothing,' he sneered. 'They said nothing.'

'Do not lie to me,' she hissed, barely above a whisper.

'They told me nothing,' he said again, more forcefully.

'Do not lie to me,' she growled.

'They did not – ' he shouted.

'Do not lie to me!' she roared. The sound echoed down the silent corridor, her command echoing back to them with force. 'For Merlin's sake, Draco! You are my cousin, the closest person I have to a brother. We were raised together, we learnt together, we played together. For a long time you were my only friend!'

'That's the problem, isn't it?' he snapped, fanning his arms out by his side. 'Your friends have changed you. Mother told me how she noticed you were not yourself anymore. You never had time for us anymore, too busy off saving Potter and Mudbloods to bother to write anymore. When was the last time you wrote to her? When Uncle Alphard was sick, how often did you just want to know how my parents were? What they had done? You used to care.'

Cassy clenched her fists. 'I always cared. Your mother is the one who never visited him in hospital. She never went out of choice after their fight and you know what they fought over? Me. Alphard knew, he knew the Dark Lord would return, he had read the signs and he was unwilling to give Narcissa custody of me because he knew your parents would crawl back to their master.

'I knew that and yet I still hoped you would all at least be there for his funeral. I left three seats open at the front, even when Andromeda told me you were not going to appear I made the other guests stand just in case. I always believed you would be there.'

She squared her shoulders, reigning her emotions back in just as her voice began to rise again. Malfoy's face was unreadable, emotions flickered across it but never lingered long enough for Cassy not note them, or perhaps she simply did not care enough to. She could always read him like a book, so perhaps she merely did not care what he thought anymore, it is not like it mattered anyway; their relationship was dead and buried.

'If you had been there for the funeral and then never spoke to me again, I would have understood. You and your parents have a side in this war and mine is the opposite, but to disregard your uncle simply because I was there is appalling and I can never forgive you for it.'

'Stop lying,' he commanded. 'You didn't invite us. Do not make it look as though we abandoned you! You cut ties to be with Potter.' He spat the 'p', his face shrivelled unpleasantly and he could not even look at her. He could not even look at her; it made her blood seer in her veins in a quiet anger she had rarely felt before.

'You know I did. You are not a fool, Draco, you know this is more than that. If your parents wanted to be there, invitation or not they would have been. They chose to stay away to keep up appearances of not associating with obvious Muggle-Lovers like myself.' She considered his shaking head for a moment, before her voice dropped an octave and become smooth, almost a whisper. 'Their philosophy is wrong, you know. One can teach an opinion, force a way of life, cultivate the Arts into something magnificent and revered, find a million ways to teach people to embrace traditional wizarding culture instead of a bastardised modernist approach enforced now, but killing children will not bring such change. To kill children and adults, to rip away the birthrights of anyone because of where they might have come from is unforgivable. To remove speech and choice will not bring order. To enslave will not bring freedom. You will not stand by his side as his equal, there will only be the Dark Lord, those who serve him, and those who oppose him and I assure you, there will be many of us. And when he forces you to your knees in the end, you might find the world is a cold place when you have no one left.'

'You don't know what you are talking about,' he said faintly.

'I will fight you, if I have to, but for Merlin's sake Draco, please do not take His mark. He will not let you go again once you do. You are like a brother to me, whether you want to be or not, and I would gladly put my life out there to save yours tomorrow if needed. You have to know that,' she said and for everything that had happened, she meant it. He was stupid, arrogant, and spiteful, but he could also be kind, thoughtful, and protective. He had been the only one to stand by her when the rest of their peers jeered, to laugh at her jokes, to turn his socks into puppets when she was sad, or sneak her chocolate when she was grounded.

It seemed impossible that such resentment and love could co-exist for one person, but he was her family, the closest she had ever been before she had found her friends and he had remained elevated in her heart because of it. Even when he had tried to pull away, he had always secretly stayed by her side, watchful of her misery, even if he had an odd way of showing it at times. It was because of that that Cassy was unwilling to simply stand by and allow his inevitable descent. His parents had never fully taken her in, she had realised. When she was a child, she had always felt a little special that a family as esteemed as the Malfoys would take her in as they did - help her, teach her, play and laugh with her as though there was nothing to be ashamed of – because it was no secret they detested everything improper. As she got older, she realised they had noticed she was not quite right, that something by all correct standards was horribly wrong with her, but they worked around it and she remained grateful. After Alphard had died, she was left to conclude she had always been alone in reality.

The Malfoys were not the type of family to defy tradition for her and she supposed she always knew it to some extent. She felt no surge of surprise at the thought, but rather an old itch of guilt that they would even have to. Generously, they had forgiven her House placement, ignored her associations, remained on good terms with her, speaking and caring, until it really mattered. Everyone but Draco. Draco did not know any better than what his parents had told him. He had long since closed off his emotions to everyone in an imitation of his father, cold and sadistic, a bully to those unfavourable. Yet, Cassy could always break through and force him to forgive her because regardless of what he said, he did care for her as she cared for him. This year, or the next, the one after that, or in a decade, she was determined to break through his skull and show him his ideology was wrong. She just hoped her connection was enough.

'I should have written to you directly,' she admitted, 'although I do not expect you would have received it, given the success rate of my other post. My world crashed down and you did not write to me once. I really needed someone who knew him, but I managed without that in the end.'

'Do not try and turn this on me,' he spat, icily. 'I wrote to you and they always came back unopened. If you cared that much you would have looked at them.'

Cassy sneered back at him. 'I told you before, I never received any letters from you.'

Malfoy turned his head to the side and made a short, sharp hiss. His eyes were cold and distant, as though reliving some far-off memory. He then turned to her, expressionless. 'You gave up on us. You chose Blood-Traitors and Mudblood over your family and you have become someone unrecognisable to me.'

That's not true, she thought, if I had he would not be wasting his time talking to me now.

'I cannot kill people because their blood does not coincide with the Dark Lord's vision of a utopia. I will not. I have met too many good people to think like that,' she said calmly, but confidently. 'Hundreds will be killed for having done nothing wrong.'

'They did something wrong,' said Draco evenly. 'They were born Mudbloods.'

Silence. For a brief moment, Cassy considered punching him. Her entire body tensed for a split second, impossible to detect, before she regained control and relaxed herself forcefully. She stared placidly instead. The quiet stretched on and on, until she took a step, then another and another and before a single word was exchanged, Cassy had walked passed him and back towards the main corridor again. As she went to turn the corner, she looked back at him, still stood where she had left him.

'I have not given up on you, not yet,' she said.

The journey to the common room was enveloped by a bizarre sense of calm. All the tension that had built for months at her simple need to speak with Malfoy had dispersed the moment the conversation ended. It had accomplished little really, they were no closer together and he did not seem to understand his parents must have tampered with the post, but she felt much better for it. The crackling of the fire and the low chatter calmed her further, distancing the argument from her mind further, but not quite enough for it not to drift back into focus when she allowed her mind to wander a step too far. It might be naive of her, she knew, to think she could change Malfoy's mind, but she had to try.

She did not look up as the portrait hole opened, nor when a figure planted themselves on the arm of her chair.

'How did your little chat go?' asked Harry.

'How was your Divination lesson?' countered Cassy.

'That good then?'

She sighed and closed the textbook she had been reading and peered up at him unhappily. She shook her head slowly. 'I cannot expect him to change for me any more than I would change my beliefs for him, but I have to try.'

Harry kissed the top of her head. 'I think you give him too much credit.'

'Perhaps,' she conceded. 'How was Divination?'

'Well,' he began, leaning on her head with his elbow, 'Firenze told us human divination is pointless and we can barely read the stars right at the best of times. He also said that nothing is ever certain even in the stars.' Harry's weight had begun to slip from the arm and slowly onto the seat, squashing Cassy inch by inch as he spoke. 'He also gave me a message for Hagrid. He said, "his attempt is not working, he would be better to abandon it", whatever that means.'

Cassy raised a questioning eyebrow, but Harry was unable to see it, having squashed her into the opposite arm. His legs dangled over the arm he had previously been sitting on and it left Cassy defeated and trapped beneath him at a strange angle where she had tried to shuffle out of the way and had only made the position worse. His back leant against her arm and side and she felt him sigh heavily.

'Did you notice his new bruises yesterday?' he asked.

'I think we need to have a serious conversation with him soon,' said Cassy. 'It is not as though Hagrid can keep a secret for long under pressure.'

'What are you two doing?' asked Neville in amusement as he wandered through the portrait hole holding a potted plant. 'Can you breathe, Cassy?'

'Debateable,' she said and Harry reached behind him to flick her face.

'Harry, have you seen my Potions homework? I think I've lost it again,' said Neville, anxiously.

'I think you put it on your bedside table,' said Harry and Neville hurried upstairs. He groaned at the thought of his least favourite class after lunch. 'I'll have another 'P' on my homework this week, I bet. I've been doing terribly this year.'

'I can tutor you if you get off me, that is,' suggested Cassy, somewhat wheezily.

Harry slipped back onto the arm.

'Although, you do not really need it. I saw what you can do at the beginning of the year,' she said. 'Why was that anyway?'

'Use that big head of yours,' he said.

She frowned and said pedantically, 'My head is not that large.'

'That's not what I meant!' he protested and she laughed.

'Well, I have a theory, if you must know. I think you were jealous of me praising Stephen's intelligence,' she said cheekily.

'I would appreciate it if you tutored me. I need all the help I can get,' he said.

'You are avoiding it,' she said.

'There's still three months until exams though.'

'Still avoiding it.'

Neville hurried down the stairs again, his homework in hand and his arms free of the potted plant he had undoubtedly been given on a detour to Professor Sprout's office as usual. He beamed at them both.

'You're still here. Great. Going to lunch then?' he asked.

* * *

**Short chapter no.2. I like this one a little better. Please make sure you read the chapter before this too. This is a double update. Many people seem to miss the first one when I do this for some reason.**

**Please review and what not if you have the time.**

**Thanks!**


	27. Defence cuts

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXVII: Defence cuts**

Another card was slapped down on the growing pile. A wand and then a firework on the cards, followed by another wand and then an owl. A game of exploding snap had begun after Cassy had won three games of chess in a row against Harry in fifteen minutes. They had stopped studying only half-an-hour earlier after Harry admitted the course content was much easier when he revisited his notes after class. The sessions had been going well so far, when Harry did not distract Cassy, and as the last week of March began they had already covered much of the first term curriculum. In return, Harry practised defensive charms with her and they exchanged useful spells out of nothing more than interest. Ginny had said in passing that it was cheating because Harry already taught her in Dumbledore's Army, but Cassy merely smirked. The DA did not come with kisses and nor could she openly disregard Harry's instructions in favour of her own. It was about the time Cassy realised Harry was, in fact, incredibly ticklish, so if he came anywhere near her in a surprise attack her hand immediately went for his sides.

'It is quite frustrating, you know,' said Cassy as she turned over another card, 'to know you are good at academics and then watch you have a rubber duck fight with Ron at the back of the classroom.'

Harry laughed. 'I never saw it as being that important to try. I always did fairly well anyway and if I did too well it would just make Dudley hit me. He always got me into trouble, so the teachers never liked me either. My aunt and uncle never cared to go to my parents' evenings, so they never knew how I was doing; I was never told "good job, Harry!" for anything, so I guess it's just a habit not to try.'

Cassy kept her hands moving despite the bubbling anger beneath her skin. She hated the Dursleys. They may have taken Harry in, but they were loathsome to him and she could not stand the thought of a child being treated poorly; she knew that childhood pain too well. She put down another card and idly commented, 'You are clever when it suits you, though. Quick-witted and sharp minded when needed. It was what I liked about you immediately.'

Harry grinned. 'Not as clever as you, though.'

'The world rarely is,' she said cheekily and Harry rolled his eyes, still grinning, when a plume of thick smoke burst from the playing cards. Cards scattered everywhere and somewhere in the distance of the common room someone sighed and moved to open a window.

With Harry finally having won a game, the two turned expectantly to Neville, Hermione, and Ginny who filled the various seats around them by the fire. Hermione snapped her book shut and slid it beneath the sofa and the five set off quickly and quietly through the portrait hole towards the Room of Requirement. Harry had created a commotion at the end of the last session when he announced his intentions to begin work on Patronuses from the next week onward. It caused so much of a fuss that when they arrived fifteen-minutes early, the room was already partially filled with eager bodies and joyous chatter.

They waited for another few minutes and when the last head had been counted, Harry called for attention.

'I'll show you the incantation, but it is secondary to the feeling behind the spell. You have to be able to use a memory, a happy one, a strong one, to be able to make anything of this spell. This is extremely complex magic. Most adult wizards and witches can't do this, so don't become disheartened if you don't master it straight away,' he said, pacing in front of the group. 'The happy memory you put into the spell is what the Dementors feed off instead of you, so it can't be an ordinary memory. It has to really mean something to you.'

'Can you show us?' requested Hannah Abbott excitedly.

'Go on,' urged Chang.

Harry shifted. 'It is different doing it in front on an actual Dementor, obviously, but – '

'You can't do it, can you?' accused Michael Corner.

'He can,' said Cassy coldly.

Ginny nudged her boyfriend sharply in the ribs.

Appearing slightly irritated with Corner's insult, Harry waved his wand. A white mist spilt from the end and gathered into a large mass, sprouting tall antlers and long legs.

Some the Dumbledore's Army squealed and gasped in delight. The stag pranced around the hall, nudging Cassy's head with its own; a cool burst of air brushed over her skin. A few claps rang through the room and Harry vanished it and set them off to work at last. Instantly, the hall was filled with shouts and sharp jabs in the air.

Without the excitement of the rest of the group, Cassy moved into her own space. She lingered in the corner thoughtfully, where she could see everyone else's attempts easily. They each watched the tips of their wands eagerly, waiting for that first spark of white. Hermione was frowning lightly, the way she always did when concentrating, and Neville had his tongue tucked at the corner of his lips in exertion. Between them, Harry lingered. He had confessed to her earlier that day that he was not quite sure how to manage the lessons. He had been taught with a Boggart, after all, and Dumbledore's Army did not have access to one of those. He had tried to think how to present the urgent need one felt when they cast it, or the devastating feeling of loss that wracked one's bones when the Dementor leaned in for a kiss. In the end, he had decided to approach with a 'wait and see' attitude.

She had promised him in fourth-year that she would have it mastered by that June, but that never happened. It had been impossible, for many months at least, to think of a single, powerful memory. When her thoughts drifted back to the memory that she had used the year before, it hardly seemed to conjure the same elation it once had. She would always be thankful for the day he told her he would accept her no matter what her faults, she had needed to hear it more than she had known, but it no longer held the same revere in her mind. Alphard was dead and his sentiment meant less when there was no physical force to reiterate it. Perhaps it was because she had struggled last year with the papers and his illness that it meant so much; with her confidence at an all-time high and growing each day now as she worked her way back into her old routines, she did not need the boost so much.

Instead, she thought to what she had found since he had been gone. She had found Tonks, Harry, she supposed, her father in a manner of speaking, and her mother's family. The sight of the warm blue-eyes and the knowing smile of her grandparents brought a flare of emotion she had missed until that Christmas. The memory of them meant more than she thought it should, after all, she hardly knew them, but the fact that beyond a doubt they had wanted to know her, to see her, to speak with her, was enough. Dysfunctional as it may be, she had a family. Her Muggle family, her criminal father, her clumsy cousin, and her friends, of course.

A blur of white shot through the room. It turned and twisted, startling many members and earning a shriek of joy from several of them. It rounded back and Cassy saw the sight of a huge, long-haired dog. Its eyes were bright and its tail curled up back to its spine. A malamute bounded back to her.

A loud clap rang through the hall as Neville began a round of applause. Everyone soon followed suit and Cassy smiled down at her Patronus. She had not really considered her spirit to manifest into a dog, although she knew they could be passed through families unless changed by strong emotions. It was not quite the same as her fathers, she recognised before she even knelt to have a better look. He father's animagus form was a large, black shaggy dog. While her Patronus was almost equal in size, it was fluffy with unusually long fur and sturdy in appearance. The plumed tail wagged merrily.

'Excellent,' grinned Harry, suddenly beside her.

The dog flung its head back and looked as though it was howling and trotted on the spot in excitement before it vanished. Cassy smirked to herself. It moved and did exactly what she wanted it to with very little effort.

'What was your memory then?' demanded Ron.

'None of your business,' said Cassy, still smirking.

'I think I know,' said George with a flash of his eyebrows.

Sniggers broke out amongst the small group who understood.

Cassy tilted her head to the side and stared flatly. 'I think you give him too much credit.'

Howls of laughter broke out and even Harry laughed after emitting a strangled whine. Cassy winked at him.

Her success continued through the lesson and by the next, Harry had assigned her to help encourage the others. By the end of it, almost half the room was producing shields in various sizes. By the next lesson, several of them had managed a full, corporeal form. Hermione had been the first. An otter rolled through the air merrily and almost collided with Chang's majestic swan. Stephen had an owl and Astoria was almost there with a large white shield. For the youngest member, she was doing remarkably well. Neville still had issues but was close and Lavender was much the same.

Cassy's dog roamed freely with Harry's stag through the room. It nipped at the otter that tumbled by. It was much easier to produce after practice. It pranced beside Ginny's newly summoned horse as she cheered with Fred and George at the sight of it.

The lessons were going surprisingly well. The difficult piece of magic seemed less troublesome with Harry pacing the room and correcting them with encouraging phrases and tips. The extra work was a break from their increasing homework. With exams approaching, it was considered more recreational than actual work. It balanced nicely in their schedules, particularly with the excitement of discovering their Patronus forms; even when several students had already cracked from pressure and Madam Pomfrey had administered several Calming Draughts, no one seemed to worry when in Dumbledore's Army. Even Harry's results were improving as Easter break approached rapidly.

The fourth lesson had nearly the entire class producing corporeal Patronus. A Jack Russell nipped at the heels of a hare and Ron laughed joyously, while Luna made her hare run higher out of reach with a dizzy smile. Cassy clapped and turned to look at the rest of the class's progress. A large wisp darted past. She jumped out of the way as the form twisted and turned in the air. Huge feet emerged and a long thin tail followed small ears and a bulky body.

'It's a tiger!' squealed Astoria. She jumped in the air and laughed loudly.

'Well done!' beamed Harry, seemingly forgetting he was speaking to a Slytherin. 'That's excellent.'

Astoria grinned madly at Harry before tackling Cassy with a tight, unrestrained hug.

'I actually did it,' she laughed.

'Brilliant,' congratulated Cassy, prying Astoria from her.

Over Astoria's shoulder, she spotted Neville, purple-faced and sweating. His face was screwed up tightly, as though in pain. His wand was outstretched, but nothing was happening. He waved it again and again. No silver vapour emerged. Silently, she approached while elation of Astoria's triumph still rattled the room.

'You are trying too hard,' she said quietly. She pressed the crook of his elbow and gently made him lower his arm.

'I just can't do it,' sighed Neville in defeat. 'I'm not good enough for this.'

'This is advanced magic, so much so that most ordinary witches and wizards cannot begin to summon one, but there is no reason you cannot learn.' She looked at his wand, remembering the old revelation that his was not one for him, but rather his father's wand and frowned for a split second before smiling. 'Try again.'

Neville's shoulders remained slumped and he put up his arm and said, 'Expectro Patronum.'

Nothing happened.

'What's your memory?' she asked.

Neville shifted in embarrassment.

'You were able to create shields last time. You must be doing something differently,' she commented.

After several more attempts, the white wisps returned. It was impossible not to notice the way Neville's eyes turned as he cast, to see who was watching and who had already completed their Patronus. With the sight of each glowing animal, his own effort would waver and disappear before it had a chance to flourish. Cassy turned his by his shoulders and made him face the corner without a word. He mumbled in protest, but as she stared with her hands on her hips uncompromisingly, he soon gave in and focused on the dark corner instead.

The effect was instant. His shield grew and then wavered again at the sound of further cheers. Pursing her lips, Cassy walked around him, her wand pointed at the ground. She drew out a five-foot circle as she walked, covering them with an invisible silencing charm. Inside the dome she had created, there was no noise beyond Neville's own uncertain puffs. Again, he waved his wand. Again and again. Each time was better than the last, until, suddenly, the huge shield did not form, leaving only a thigh-high shape that burst into life. It kicked and jumped into form, revealing a large-horned ram.

Neville made the most unusual noise Cassy had ever heard and he gripped her tightly. She patted him slowly in a clear indication she wanted to be let go while he wrangled them from the silence circle to follow his Patronus.

'I did it, I did it, I did it,' he chanted.

'Wonderful!' came Luna's airy voice. There was a sudden jolt and although Cassy could not turn her head to see, she was fairly certain Luna had attached herself to the hug. 'I knew you were worrying over nothing.'

'Whose is this?' called Dean and the ram leapt by.

'Mine!' cried Neville.

'Well done, mate!' called Dean back.

'I told you you can be a great wizard,' said Harry, approaching from the side.

'You made him blush!' grinned Ginny with her eyes on Neville's face.

Cassy could feel the heat radiating from him. The ram vanished and he let her go, although Luna was still attached to his back.

A cheerful round of applause filled the room, everyone who knew Neville knew he struggled with basic tasks, more often than not due to his own belief he was doomed to fail. He flushed a bright red, turning white at the sudden bang of the door being thrown wide open. Everyone span, wands out and ready to run. The first thought through their heads was that Professor Umbridge had finally found them, yet there was no pink mass standing haughtily in the doorway. Instead, Dobby scurried over to Harry, his ears peeled back and his massive eyes even wider than usual.

'She's coming!' he panted, before smacking himself sharply on the head. 'You must leave.'

Harry quickly grabbed his assaulting hands. 'She? Umbridge?'

'Dobby had to warn Harry Potter,' he whined, obviously struggling with the idea of going against one of the teachers of the school he served.

'Dobby, return to the kitchens and I don't want you to hurt yourself, okay?' said Harry and Dobby Apparated away. He turned to everyone. 'Scatter!'

Immediately, there was a mass rush for the door. Cassy found herself pushed along with the crowd, though she was desperately seeking Harry. It was impossible. She was too small to see over the heads of the others and in their panic no one seemed to care if she was fighting to go in the other direction. An arm suddenly linked with hers. Hermione dragged her to the door and as soon as the two were free from the doorway they sprinted. Dumbledore's Army members spread in every direction, their footsteps thundering down each corridor in panic. Most were most likely heading towards their common rooms, or to well-hidden areas of the castle where no one would notice them disappear to.

They slowed to a quick walk just before entering the double doors of the library. Madam Pince was not at her desk and the two slunk by and hid behind a nearby bookcase. Several other recognisable people rushed in, Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan, who had to risk many flights of stairs to return to their common room, and Stephen and Astoria, who must have stayed together in the rush. Cassy poked her head out and waved the four over. They gathered quickly with demanding questions and hush voices.

'Who told on us?' asked Macmillan, scandalised.

'We'll find out soon,' promised Hermione darkly. 'The parchment we signed up on was cursed.

'I hope it's a good one then. We could have all been expelled,' hissed Astoria, her hands on her hips instead of being the slightest bit shocked by the enchanted paper.

'If they know I'm part of it, my aunt might get into trouble at the Ministry,' fretted Bones.

Cassy ground her teeth together. Her face remained neutral, but she could not help but wonder what had happened to the others. If any of them were caught it would be trouble, but if Harry was expelled then it would be disastrous. It would mean the Ministry could claim he had been lying about Voldemort's return and was truly nothing more than a troublemaker.

'The library is closing,' called Madam Pince as she passed.

With low murmurs, everyone went their separate ways again. Now that Madam Pince had seen them in the library and ten minutes had passed since their initial escape, they were all quietly confident that they could not be assumed to be part of the army. After all, it was now curfew and it was perfectly acceptable to be leaving the library late during revision season.

The common room was almost silent. There was the faintest of mutterings and the crackle of the fire, but no one dared speak any louder than a whisper. Neville jumped at the sight of the girls.

'Harry?' he asked.

Cassy frowned. Beyond his shoulder was Ginny with a worried frown.

'I last saw him closest to you,' she replied. Her stomach dropped an inch as she scanned the room.

'I thought he would be with you!' stated Ginny.

Cassy's eye flicked to the door. Harry had the cloak so they could sneak back late at their own leisure after the lesson and she risked being caught too if she went without it. She sank into one of the chairs and exhaled slowly.

It was all over if he had been found. He would be expelled, Dumbledore's Army would be finished, and all their efforts in clearing his name would be for nothing. No one would support someone who could no longer practise magic.

No one from the association went to bed. They lingered around the common room uncomfortably for the better part of an hour, the air so tense that any unsuspecting Gryffindor caught wandering through quickly retreated again silently. It was not until the clock struck ten that the portrait hole opened. Panic rang through the room, fuelled by the expectant fear of Professor McGonagall accompanying Harry to collect his belongings for a long, late night train home. However, there was no Professor McGonagall. Just Harry. Cassy leapt from her seat and enveloped him in a tight hug a second later. She was too relieved to be concerned with the eyes watching the affectionate gesture. He gripped her just as tightly; there was no trembling to suggest he was expelled or hurt. She pulled back and asked him what happened and the room was silent around them.

He ran a hand through his hair. 'Dumbledore's been sacked.'

Silence. Loud cries of protest then echoed through the room.

'They were going to expel me, but he said he had created it. "Dumbledore's Army," he said belonged to him and that he had organised for me to teach them. I was let off and Fudge tried to have Dumbledore arrested, but he knocked them all to the ground with this silver flash and then he vanished with Fawkes,' he explained. 'Percy had already gone to give a report to the Daily Prophet, though.'

'Percy?' hissed Ginny.

'As in our traitorous brother?' growled Fred.

Harry nodded slightly.

'Who was the traitor?' asked Seamus.

Harry scowled. 'Marietta, Cho Chang's friend.'

The room finally exploded with noise.

Quickly and subtly, Harry tugged Cassy's elbow and pulled her aside. Ducking low to her ear, he said, 'Dumbledore knocked Umbridge, Fudge, and Dawlish out and then told me he isn't going into hiding; he's going to make Fudge wish he had never made him leave Hogwarts. Kingsley changed Marietta's memory to make her believe it was the first meeting of the DA before she was interrogated to avoid more trouble. I'm so angry, though.'

Cassy bit her lip, fully aware of how close Harry had been to being expelled.

'I know Edgecomb's mother is in the Ministry, but to crack as she did…' she muttered.

'I thought Cho would have better friends,' grumbled Harry.

Cassy wondered if he was thinking of Cedric again.

'Anyway,' sighed Harry heavily, 'I'm going to bed. Feel free to tell the others the truth.'

He swooped down and kissed her before vanishing up the boys' staircase, unlikely to be able to sleep but unwilling to answer any more questions. Cassy was left with the dreadful knowledge that if Professor Dumbledore was gone, the next person likely to be headmaster was none other than Professor Umbridge.

* * *

**It's been a hectic few weeks for me, but I should be able to update every week from now on. I am even 2/3 of the way through planning Year Six! I'm actually enjoying planning the next year because there is just a lot less going on than this year. There are so many things that happen in OotP that it makes writing the year slow and difficult sometimes. Next year should be much easier and enjoyable, fingers crossed.**

**The reason I chose a malamute it because they are very beautiful dogs, large by most standards, stubborn, and needs constant stimulation before they become destructive. I know this because I have two of them. I wanted Cassy to match Sirius to some extent and I thought a large breed of dog would be good, so they are not exactly the same, but similar enough. Sirius' is described as large and shaggy, whereas Cassy's dog is large, long-haired and well groomed. Long-hair on malamute is a genetic 'fault', so I thought this would represent their outlooks a little bit. Although Cassy is small in size, she has an eye-catching persona and if you've seen malamutes about, you probably know they're impossible to ignore.**

**For Neville, I chose a Ram due to their connotations to innocence despite their ability to fight and defend. They are usually considered unintelligent, although they are really just below pigs, so they can be clever. They are also docile and prefer herds too. I thought that suited him quite well. I couldn't find if J. K. Rowling had given him one online. **

**Thanks!**


	28. Questions and truths

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXVIII: Questions and truths**

The real events were kept between them. No one was to know that Albus Dumbledore did, in fact, have a genuine army to fall back on against the Ministry, or that Kingsley, one of the most trusted men in the Ministry, was part of it. None of that stopped the tale of his flight from circulating with growing dramatics which hauntingly veered close to the real events.

Professor Umbridge stood proudly at breakfast the next morning and announced she was to be the new Headmistress to no one's surprise. Beyond a few Slytherins, very few, in fact, noted Cassy eagerly, no one clapped. As if the announcement was not enough, posters were placed on every notice board throughout the school, reiterating her new position. By that lunch though it had become popular news that she was unable to access the Headmaster's Office; the gargoyle simply would not budge. None of the staff seemed keen to help.

'I suppose she fancies herself in that chair,' hissed Hermione as they entered the Entrance Hall after lunch. 'As if her vile head needed to swell any larger.'

'I can't wait to see what new rules she imposes. Whipping, I bet,' said Ginny sarcastically.

'Twenty-points from Gryffindor!' came a joyous voice.

Everyone looked up to see Malfoy lingering on the stairs, a hand on his hip and a wide smile on his face.

'For what?' demanded Ginny.

Malfoy eyed Cassy up and down. 'Well, it's not so much anything you have done, just more because she exists.'

Cassy did not react. Her eyes flickered down to the silver pin with an 'I' embossed on it.

'Fuck off, Malfoy,' snapped Harry.

'Five points for language!' called Malfoy, his smile even wider than before.

'You can't abuse the Prefect system like this!' protested Hermione.

'I'm part of the Inquisitorial Squad.' He tapped the pin on his chest. He moved down the steps, stopping a mere foot in front of them. 'It's a group set up by the Headmistress. She hand picked up personally for showing loyalty to the Minister. So, I don't have to answer to Prefect duties anymore, Granger. So, take five points off for being a Mudblood, five from Scarhead because I dislike you, Five from Longbottom and Weasley for being Blood-Traitors…' He paused at Luna. 'Who actually are you?'

Luna smiled serenely and stared over his head, most likely having spied Nargals, or something of the sort.

Malfoy frowned and then turned to Cassy and jabbed her sharply in the chest. 'Ten points from you for tainting my mother's family.'

Enough.

The next sound was a sharp cry as Malfoy hit the ground. Blood spurted from his nose and Cassy's fist was clenched as she slowly lowered it back to her side.

'You really are beginning to irritate me,' she said coldly.

'Fifty-points from Gryffindor, you mental cow!' he squawked. 'Umbridge will hear about this!'

As she watched his retreating back, she could not help but think at least he was not tattling on her to his father. She knew she should not be so violent. It was frowned upon when they were children, though he used to hit her too back then, but sometimes words failed to penetrate his skull. After all, after years of growls and snappy retorts, one would have expected him to leave her heritage out of the conversation.

'Cassy!' reprimanded Hermione.

Cassy waved a hand, unconcerned. She had had enough detentions to know she could handle whatever Professor Umbridge set.

'You shouldn't have done that,' fretted Neville.

'He's right,' said Harry.

Cassy turned sharply, startled.

'You should have let me break his nose,' he continued.

Cassy grinned.

'I think Cassy made a good enough go of that already,' smirked Ginny.

Ginny and Luna went their separate ways to Charms, while Cassy, Harry, Neville, and Hermione headed to Herbology. The greenhouse was stuffy and bright as always in mid-Spring, but the atmosphere was more unbearable still with Professor Sprout's unusually short temper. The cheerful woman slammed the pots down on each desk and stood for no talking unless it was of how Dumbledore had cursed Professor Umbridge quite rightfully into the ground.

All the staff seemed to operate on a similar vain to Professor Sprout. Their disapproval of the new Headmistress could not be clearer. They made no move to stop the spreading stories or to correct the students when they hissed and growled in complaint. The only one who seemed unfazed was Professor Snape.

When the class was finally released, hot and slightly sweaty from the humidity of the greenhouse, the fifth-years quickly began to retreat back up the marble staircases towards the Gryffindor common room, eager to wash and cool themselves before dinner. Talking with Dean and Seamus ahead, Ron suddenly made a hand gesture his mother undoubtedly would have clouted him for over to an adjacent staircase. With their shirts untucked and ties loosened, Fred and George sneered playfully back. They hopped over quickly during a transfer connection and joined the fifth-year Gryffindors on their trek.

'Cassy!' exclaimed George. 'The woman of the hour!'

'Yes?' drawled Cassy.

'Our good friend,' continued Fred.

'Our buddy.'

'Our pal.'

'What do you want?' she asked, rolling her eyes in amusement.

'What went on between you and Malfoy? We heard the little slime complaining all the way to the hospital wing,' said Fred, grinning.

'So did all of our Transfiguration class, actually. I don't think McGonagall was too impressed,' shrugged George.

Cassy hummed flatly. She was certainly getting a detention. She gave the pair an abridge version of events, emphasising Malfoy's new position and implying with speculative distaste what was sure to follow. With a mischievous smirk and half-lidded eyes, Cassy said, 'I do hope you two do not intend to be quiet now. It would be devastating not to break the new Headmistress into her new role.'

They laughed. 'We're way ahead of you.'

'The only thing worth sticking around for was the DA,' said Fred. 'Now that's gone things need to liven up a bit.'

Hermione turned and eyed the pair critically. 'Be careful. She'll be even worse now there is no one standing in her way.'

'Don't you worry about us, Hermione,' said George and he tapped her nose. 'We'll be just fine, won't we, Fred?'

'Of course, George. We've got an excellent plan.'

The pair winked and ran ahead and shoved Ron into the railings.

'I wish I could be as confident as them,' said Neville wistfully.

Cassy dearly hoped she was there to witness their plan unfold, whatever it was. They seemed more eager than she had ever seen them before and given the tense situation it was most likely to be a spectacular display. One phrase echoed through her mind distantly, though. 'The only thing worth sticking around for was the DA', Fred had said. It sounded as though they planned on going somewhere.

Before Cassy could give it any real thought, her name was called in a low, sneering tone she had come to associate with being in trouble.

'Potter, Black,' called Filch, hobbling towards them. 'Come with me.'

'Why?' demanded Harry.

'You'll see,' he sneered.

The two went without another word. Filch would occasionally turn back to check they were still following as they descended back to the second floor again. He looked unusually pleased and it did not take long for Cassy to realise his joy was because they were heading directly to Professor Umbridge's office.

'I've been telling Dumbledore for years he was too soft on yeh,' said Filch. 'Wouldn't be so clever if a good whipping was in store, you yeh? String yeh up by yer ankles and leave yeh to rot until I say so. Oh, when decree number twenty-nine comes in, neither of yeh will be so cocky. I've had enough of yeh breaking the rules over the years. Things will be different with her in charge.'

Cassy paid no attention to his ramblings. Hell would break loose if parents found their children were being whipped. It would never pass, not for any serious length of time, at least. The only reason Fudge was still managing was because of the fear people held at being branded a traitor to the government, but that would not hold back a torrent of complaints at such punishments. Briefly, Cassy wondered if she would be whipped for punching Malfoy earlier, but what greeted her when the door opened was much worse than any corporal punishment. It was the beaming face of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

Beside him was Professor Umbridge who sat at her desk with a typically repulsive smile. In front of her were two cups of tea and only two. They were full, untouched and placed directly in front of two chairs on the opposite side of the desk. To her right sat a large, gold plaque reading: 'Headmistress' and behind her on the wall and chained to the ground like trophies were Harry, Fred, and George's brooms.

'Thank-you, Argus,' said Professor Umbridge sweetly.

'No problem at all, Ma'am. None at all,' he said and slunk back out the door.

As soon as it closed, Fudge clapped his hands and exclaimed, 'Harry Potter, it really has been too long. Do take a seat, both of you.'

'Drinks?' asked Professor Umbridge.

'No, thank-you,' said Cassy.

'Tea? Pumpkin juice? Coffee,' she asked.

'Nothing, thank-you,' said Harry.

'I wish for you both to have a drink with us. I already made you tea, but I can change it if you like.' Her voice had become high and sweet. She was annoyed.

'Tea is fine, thank-you,' said both Cassy and Harry with varying degrees of suspicion.

Cassy looked at the tea and then at the two cups Professor Umbridge had conjured on her desk. She made a show of pouring the milk in slowly and delicately. Cassy took the chance to turn to Harry and move her eyes pointedly from his cup to his eyes and shake her head a fraction. He nodded in the same way, already on the same line of thought. Alistair Moody would disembowel them for willingly drinking something given by a known enemy.

With the cups resting in their hands, they all fell silent.

'Drink up,' laughed Fudge hesitantly. He was wearing a forced, awkward smile again.

Cassy and Harry raised the cups to their lips, never parting them before putting the cups back into their laps.

Professor Umbridge smiled. 'Minister Fudge has some questions he needs you to answer completely truthfully, okay?'

They both turn to him expectantly and he nestled into a seat on the opposite side of the desk at last. The teacup steamed in front of him.

'Where is Sirius Black?' he asked.

Harry recoiled. Startled, he said, 'We don't know.'

'Oh, come now, Harry,' said Fudge in good humour.

'We never kept in contact. We never saw him again,' lied Cassy. A false frown was fixed on her face in an effort to appear confused.

'Right. Well, drink up! There's no sense in letting the tea get cold.' His voice was considerably cooler, but he did his best to keep a smile on his lips as they pretended to drink once more. 'It's important we find him and get him out of the way of the investigations that are going on. People are afraid he may have had a part in some scary events lately and if we find him we can clear his name.'

'The breakout you mean?' said Harry flatly. 'The Government was pretty keen to blame him, weren't they?'

Umbridge snarled. 'You need to have some respect – '

'It's quite all right,' said Fudge with false kindness. 'I assure you, Harry, we had nothing to do with that. People blamed Sirius because they were scared and the cause is unknown.'

Cassy stamped on Harry's foot to stop him snapping 'Voldemort'.

A faint banging began outside.

'As I said, Minister, we have not spoken to him. He has no reason to contact us,' she said imploringly.

'He was in the fireplace,' stated Professor Umbridge flatly.

Harry did his best look of shock and asked, 'In the fireplace? What do you mean?'

'You surely cannot mean a Firecall?' added Cassy, playing along. 'A Firecall is like a partial Floo, but used to hold conversations. Surely someone would have noticed.'

'Don't play dumb,' snapped Professor Umbridge.

Cassy pretended to drink as she spoke, keenly aware of Fudge's eyes on her. He laughed slightly. 'Surely you cannot expect us to believe you simply let him leave that night and he has not tried to contact you both since?'

Her features schooled into a cold mask in the blink of an eye. Fudge recoiled.

'Sir, with all due respect, what reason do I have for keeping in contact with my father?' she asked icily. 'He was involved in my life for a year before gallivanting away and getting himself involved in a mess that saw him imprisoned for twelve-years. Wrongfully or not, he has not played such a big part in my life that I would seek him out and he obviously did not care enough for me to keep out of trouble. If he does get into contact, I will be sure to tell you, Minister, so you can arrange the trial he deserves.'

Fudge continued to look startled at her cold words. Even Harry had tensed at the start of her expert lie.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat. 'Where is Albus Dumbledore?'

'I don't know,' answered Harry, seemingly perplexed.

'You and Dumbledore are always together,' she said.

Harry frowned. 'I haven't spoken to him much all year. I honestly have no idea where he's gone.'

Fudge made a noise of disappointment.

'Everything is being watched. I will find out of there is anything I should know,' said Professor Umbridge sweetly.

The banging outside grew louder and louder as if growing closer.

Cassy stuck her hand in her pocket to grab her wand and banished half the liquid from her and Harry's cups.

'You have detention, Miss Black, tonight at five, for assaulting another student,' said Professor Umbridge.

Cassy nodded, unconcerned.

Just as she and Harry rose to leave, the door banged open and colourful streams of sparked filled the room. Deafening bangs chorused around them and Catherine Wheels flared into life. Professor Umbridge shrieked. Her arms rose to cover her head, while Harry let out a tremendous laugh. Whilst she blindly reached for her wand, Cassy and Harry sprinted from the room, following the explosions to the staircases. Sparks rose high, forming giant dragons and shattering into colourful rain all through the castle. The railings were lined with students screeching and cheering with each flash. Harry laughed loudly at the sight and Cassy grinned at the chaos in front of them.

'Is this good enough?' came a voice from behind her.

She turned to George and sighed heavily. 'I suppose it will have to suffice.'

'Is that a challenge?' Fred and George asked together.

'It might be,' smirked Cassy.

They were not able to enjoy the display for much longer as Professor Umbridge scurried down the hall, wand drawn and livid. She screamed at the crowds to go back to their common rooms and if anyone later asked they all blamed the lack of movement on the explosions drowning out her voice. There was nothing quite like the display, fierce and uncompromising as the explosions tore several portraits off the walls.

In the din, Cassy and Harry took the opportunity to escape onto the quiet grounds. Bangs, pops, and whizzes still echoed beside the lake where they could finally hear themselves speak, though their ears still rang.

'Veritaserum,' said Harry.

'If they had not believed they had drugged us then there is no way we would not have been interrogated harsher,' agreed Cassy.

The two walked leisurely around the placid lake.

'I can't believe Fudge actually asked us about Sirius and tried to make it look like he cared,' scoffed Harry. 'I don't believe for a moment he wasn't the one to blame him. He's terrified of the truth getting out about his innocence.'

'We need to be careful. If anyone hears even a suggestion of him now we will be lucky to just be expelled and not arrested,' she sighed.

Fireworks exploded through a window in the distance.

'How long do you think they will go on for?' asked Cassy.

'Knowing the twins, at least another week.'

* * *

The library was oddly crowded with Dumbledore's Army members in the days that followed. No one bothered to hide their association anymore and Cassy found herself often approached by many of them, having built good relations with them over the last few months. Even Astoria had found herself with friends in other houses as the walls between her and them broke down with Cassy's ever-watchful eyes and Astoria's own brash and stubborn determination to at least try and connect.

The conversation was usually polite, although sometimes genuinely friendly. She mostly said that yes, Harry was faring well, she was fine herself, and revision was going well. She had volunteered to help Ginny and Luna with their revision in the library and watched over their summoning and banishing spells. Ginny would send things soaring towards her and Luna would vanish them before they collided with anyone in a sort of hazardous game. When Madam Pince made her rounds the books would clatter to the ground and the two would turn to Cassy as if having been conversing all the while with her.

'Your cousin docked me ten points today for smiling,' said Ernie Macmillan from the table next to their own.

Cassy sighed.

Ginny smirked over at him. 'You could always ask Cassy to punch him in the face again.'

'You hit him?' asked Macmillan incredulously.

'I was deducted fifty-points and had a detention, but it was worth it,' said Cassy idly. She did not believe in violence unless necessary, unless it came to Draco Malfoy, to which it always felt needed. She supposed their old squabbles as children still stuck in her bones.

Susan Bones giggled into her hand while Macmillan looked as though he could kiss her.

They spoke for the better part of an hour before the two Hufflepuffs bid the girls goodnight and retreated back to their common room. The Sun had begun to set outside, casting a bright orange light through the tall, arched windows as it descended slowly behind the high Scottish mountains. The library had fallen into a quiet hush as it grew closer and closer to curfew. The faint shuffling of books to the far side meant Madam Pince had not yet begun her rounds to clear the lingering students for the night.

Ginny watched Luna with interest, her hand propped up her chin and her lips were parted for some time in thought. There was clearly something she wished to ask her studying friend and Cassy pretended not to be curious as she finished up the last sentence of her Potions essay.

'What are you going to do about Neville?' asked Ginny at last.

Cassy continued to pretend to read through her work. She had always known there was something going on between the two, but it never felt appropriate to ask and now Ginny was about to solve the nagging curiosity for her.

'I like him very much,' said Luna simply.

'But?' prompted Ginny.

'Is it possible for someone to not realise they like someone?' she asked. A light frown marred her usually serene features. An unusual look of confusion drew her features together in an unexplainably bizarre expression.

Ginny frowned. 'What do you mean?'

Luna did not respond and instead looked at Cassy. Unable to pretend she was not listening anymore, she turned to meet her gaze.

'When did you start having feelings for Harry?' she asked.

Cassy was quiet for a moment, then said, 'I realised in fourth-year, but upon thinking about it I suppose it was more likely to have started sometime in third-year.'

'And how did you know you liked him?'

That is a bit personal, her inner-self protested. She supposed it was something that friends told each other, but Cassy did not like to share and that certainly felt like sharing. She took a minute to think and replied, 'I just did. He was something different in my mind and always the first person I turned to.'

And the one I feared judging me most, she added in thought, but no one needed to know that bit.

A shadow suddenly fell across their table and Cassy felt the heat rise in her cheeks at the sight of the very person they had been speaking of. Mortified, Cassy scanned his face for any sign he had heard her, but his expression was grim and unless he had come over with the explicit intent of breaking up with her she was confident her words had not caused it and she would like to think some rare verbally expressed sentiment would cheer him up if he was unhappy, so she concluded he must not have heard her.

'What's the matter?' she asked.

'Just had a terrible Occulmency lesson,' said Harry and he dropped into a seat beside her.

Cassy did not ask him to explain. She knew he would not want to, not yet. His face was pinched and stressed, his eyes defeated. Instead, she smiled quickly at Luna in apology for the interruption and set herself the task of trying to distract Harry instead. It did not work too well, for while he laughed at her sarcastic comments the problem was still clearly at the front of his mind. The four only had another fifteen-minutes in the library before Madam Pince finally circled the room and asked them to leave. Ginny walked ahead with Luna with the excuse there was something she wished to speak to her about. It was probably true to some extent, Cassy knew, for she too wanted to continue the conversation she had been mid-way through with Luna and get to the bottom of her questions. When they disappeared, taking a long route to the Ravenclaw common room, Cassy still said nothing. It was Harry who sighed deeply.

'I know you're going to tell me I shouldn't have,' he began slowly, 'but I looked in a Pevensie in Snape's office.'

Cassy raised an eyebrow at him. He was right. He should not have looked, but even she could not deny such an opportunity would have been very tempting.

'I saw a memory of his Defence Against the Dark Arts exam for his OWLs. My parents were there, Sirius too.'

Cassy waited for him to continue his explanation, but instead his frown deepened into a hateful scowl.

'My dad's vile.'

Cassy recoiled in shock.

'I can't imagine why my mum married him unless she was forced to,' he continued venomously.

'Slow down,' commanded Cassy as she took hold of his arms. 'Where is this coming from?'

She pulled him to a stop just in time to prevent him walking off the edge of the moving staircase.

'He was a bully. He taunted Snape for no reason and when my mum asked him why he just said it was because he existed. He's like Malfoy.' He spat the words and refused to meet Cassy's eye. The disappointment was evident in the slump of his shoulders and the far-away look in his burning green eyes. He had always thought so highly of his parents, so to see his father as anything less than wonderful must have struck his heart harder than he would have imagined.

Calmly, Cassy turned him to face her. 'What did you see?'

'My dad strung Snape up by the ankle with some sort of spell after Snape tried to curse him and cut his cheek instead. Sirius stunned Snape with Petrificus Totalus before Snape could hex back. My mum ordered him to put him down, but then my dad said he only would if she went on a date with him and she said she would rather date the Giant Squid than a bullying toerag like him, which is apt, I suppose.' He sighed. 'When my mum tried to defend Snape he said he didn't need help from a Mudblood like her and dad tried to make him apologise, but she wouldn't have any of it and said he made her sick. That was the end of it. How did they ever get together when he was so nasty?'

Cassy was not at all surprised her father had joined in. They had been best-friends, often making two people as bad as one another when together and it was no secret to her how much Sirius loathed Professor Snape.

'I just feel… I always thought it was a compliment when people compared me to my father. Professor McGonagall once said he was like Fred and George, so I always thought he liked a good laugh, but not at the expense of others. I never thought they were bullies,' said Harry.

They two began walking again, very slowly and with hushed voices, having missed the start of curfew.

'Sirius always goes on about how great my dad was, but…' he continued.

'But what kind of person is he himself, you wonder,' said Cassy in understanding. 'I understand. What you have to be aware of is that you witnessed a memory of a fifteen-year-old boy, and yes, before you say it, we are in the same year and no I am sure you would not do the same, but that does not mean James did not grow into someone wonderful by the time he left school and married your mother. You saw a memory from Professor Snape's perspective and yes, it seems like James was unwarranted in his behaviour, but he did call your mother a Mudblood, so I refuse to believe he is an innocent party in all of this. I very much doubt anyone who slings that word around, especially towards someone who was trying to help them, does not have their own faults. It hardly seemed to be the first time such a thing had happened, so perhaps you should speak to Blackjack and find out a little more about it before you write your father from your good books completely.'

Harry hummed in a distinctly dissatisfied manner.

'Remus, then,' she offered.

He shook his head and said, 'At least my mum seemed nice enough. It makes sense why Snape hates me so much now, though.'

Cassy tensed and sneered, 'There is no excuse to treat you like he does. You are not your father like I am not mine. He treats everyone terribly and I refuse to accept that a school rivalry can warrant anything like he does. He treats Neville with exactly the same loathing and he is here to teach the students, not bully them like he might have been bullied. It is not your fault and as a grown man he should be able to understand that. A memory of a bully does not excuse anything else he went on to do.'

Her tone startled him for a moment, but by the end of her little rant Harry seemed to be pacified.

'To hate someone so much you would publicly humiliate them like that, though,' he said, trailing off.

'Don't pretend you did not laugh when Barty Crouch Jr. turned Malfoy into a ferret last year,' scoffed Cassy.

Harry managed a laugh. 'Point taken.'

If Cassy was honest, she was irritated to find her father had taken part in such blatantly horrid acts at school. Perhaps if she knew a reason such things occurred then she would have been more understanding, but she never believed anyone should bully another. Occasionally, and admittedly more than was sometimes warranted, she did hit her cousin, which was not so different from cursing or jinxing him. He had even hit her back on the odd occasion and had quickly learnt Cassy was inclined to brawl if her fists were all she had, propriety be damned. She supposed it was not so different. If James had punched Professor Snape then she supposed Harry would not mind so much as he often itched to do the same himself, but it must be the humiliation of the task that really strangled the positive image of his father for him.

She loathed the way Harry was sure to mull over the memory over and over in his mind, worsening the thoughts unless she could break him from that chain truly before he slept that night. What he really needed to do was contact her father and discuss it with him and discover more of his own father's better traits, but Harry appeared as though he would rather drown himself in the lake than talk to him right then.

'Snape caught me looking and doesn't want to teach me Occulmency anymore,' he said suddenly.

Cassy blinked and then sighed deeply. Of course, that was Harry's secondary issue with the events. To anyone else that might have seemed vitally important, but she supposed there was no helping it now. She rubbed her temples and said, 'We better brush up on our skills then. I'll add it to the timetable of revision.'

Harry grinned, thankful there was no lecture attached to her words, and swooped down to kiss her head.

* * *

**My issue with this year of the series is that it takes forever to get anywhere. The book takes so long to get to the point of it all that I feel like I have twenty-eight chapters of filler work to do yet so much of it is important to arriving at the end it was impossible to edit down. **

**Anyway, thank-you all for the kind reviews on the last chapter. I have officially finished plotting year six, which should not be nearly as complex or long-winded as this year is. I do appreciate how straight forward the plot is.**

**To Xenocanaan: She very well might be curious! I don't promise it will result in anything until much later though. **

**Thanks!**


	29. Both past and future

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXIX: Both past and future**

It took several days of persuasion, but Cassy eventually got Harry to agree to call Sirius on the two-way mirror he had been gifted. It was almost midway through the Easter holidays that Cassy and Harry finally sat in the boys' dormitory surrounded by the remnants of their revision, with timetables scattered across the bed and floor from Harry's continuous discovery of the many places they had been hidden so he could never forget their schedule and balled up parchment with useless and half-hearted notes from his lessons discarded at Cassy's demand.

'Are you sure you do not want me to leave?' she asked as she tidied.

Harry shook his head. 'It doesn't bother me if you hear. I'll just end up telling you about it anyway.'

He had avoided speaking of his father to anyone else so far. It was a mix of shame and hopefulness that made him unable to even suggest that his father may have been less than a perfect man and there was always the chance the others would not see what the issue would be, given the severe hatred of Professor Snape all his friends harboured with no real secret. Everyone else was outside in the April sunshine to avoid their revision – although Hermione seemed to have taken hers with her down to the lake – so the pair took the unusual moment of calm to finally make the long overdue call.

The mirror flickered for a second, before Sirius' grey eyes popped into view and he grinned. His expression quickly dimmed and he frowned, asking, 'Harry, what's wrong?'

'Is he okay?' came Remus' call from somewhere out of sight.

'I'm fine,' said Harry. 'Cassy made me call.'

Cassy turned to stare at him flatly.

'Oh? Where is she?' asked Sirius.

'Glaring at me from the foot of my bed,' said Harry and Sirius huffed a laugh. 'I did want to call you, though. I have a few questions about my dad, actually.'

Harry spared no detail in his retelling of the memory he had seen. Sirius and Remus were unusually quiet until Harry finished and Sirius audibly shrugged.

'We were fifteen,' he said simply.

'I'm fifteen and I don't string people up by their ankles!' protested Harry much in the same way he did with Cassy.

'There was a lot of bad blood between James and Snape. They often fought and it came from both sides. Snape gave as good as he got,' came Remus' voice as Cassy worked on folding Harry's clothing he had scrunched and thrown into his trunk. They were delivered folded when the laundry was done, so how he managed to get them into that state she did not know, but what she did know that the sight was annoying and had to be corrected.

'Snape was jealous of James,' added Sirius. 'James was popular and good at sport, Snape was weird and practiced the Dark Arts. His only friends were Death Eaters. People naturally avoided him.'

'He attacked Snape because he was bored,' said Harry.

There was a sigh and Cassy heard it despite her inner debate whether she could haphazardly formulate a cleaning spell with only what she had seen Tonks do badly over the summer.

'I'm not proud of what happened,' defended Sirius.

'He grew out of it, Harry. The boy you saw then grew into a very different man by the time your parents got together,' said Remus softly.

'How did they get together?'

Harry's tone had switched from uncertain to eager and Cassy certainly did feel out of place as the reminiscence of his parents began to spill into the cool, quiet air of the Gryffindor dormitory. Sirius laughed at the mere thought of it. He and Remus launched into a long story and asked if James had ruffled his hair and when Harry nodded they burst into another round of fond laughter. Their story twisted and turned and by the end of it, neither Cassy nor Harry was any wiser on how his parents actually finally got together. There just seemed to be a lot of Quidditch matches and drinking and Lily playfully pretending to dislike James for the simple fact she knew it drove him mad. As the story trailed off, if it had ever really begun, Sirius' voice remained unusually gentle.

'That doesn't mean his rivalry with Snape ended just because James grew out of mean pranks,' he said as though it was still something amusing. 'They still fought, but it tended to be a bit more private than it had been.'

'James and Snape never saw eye to eye for as long as we were at school because James was incredibly loyal to those he cared about and given that Snape was part of a group who would never respect Lily, even when she and Snape had been friends, meant he couldn't stand him,' added Remus,

Harry blanched at the idea of Lily and Professor Snape being friends. Cassy rose an eyebrow, but supposed it was not impossible, given how she had defended him.

'Did Snape find out you had seen his memory?' asked Remus suspiciously.

Harry shrugged. 'He said he would never teach me Occlumency again.'

Sirius and Remus exploded into loud protests.

'He what?' demanded Sirius. 'I'm coming up there to have a word with him!'

'Are you serious, Harry?' asked Remus quickly.

'Yeah, but I don't see what the big deal is. I'm relieved, actually. Sirius, where are you going?'

'Sirius, you're not going anywhere. Get back here.'

At the sound of Remus' demand, Cassy sat herself down beside Harry and peered at the dull image of Grimmauld Place's dingy kitchen. Remus' salt and pepper hair was just in view as he had tilted the mirror away in an obvious effort to drag Sirius back to the table again.

'Cassy,' called Remus, 'make sure Harry goes back and speaks to Snape to ask him to continue the lessons.'

'Can't I just teach myself?' asked Harry, mortified at the prospect of begging Professor Snape for anything. 'Cassy does.'

'You can't just teach yourself Occlumency,' came Sirius' voice somewhere off in the distance. 'It takes far too much time and concentration. You must have someone teach you, Harry.'

Suddenly, Sirius' face popped back into view and he snatched the mirror back from Remus.

'Promise you will go and speak to him, Harry. Once Dumbledore hears of this he will make Snape continue the classes,' he continued.

'Fine, fine,' agreed Harry half-heartedly.

'Be careful and do not do anything reckless that might draw attention to yourselves,' he said pointedly.

As soon as the conversation ended, Harry snorted, 'Who is he to tell me to be careful? He got himself arrested, imprisoned, escaped, tried to murder someone again, and then went on the run!'

Cassy laughed. 'You are talking about the man who told you not to send Hedwig with letters because she's too conspicuous and then sends his replies by toucan.'

Harry laughed and in the days that followed everyone commented on his improved mood. When he had stopped brooding, their revision was much smoother and Harry actually listened to every word Cassy said instead of every other and the two were soon back on track, even with their added Occlumency practices. A few days later, large, caramel filled eggs arrived in the post, hand-made my Mrs Weasley and stamped with an approved sign from the post inspection. Revision turned into a poor mix of work and eating where far more chocolate was consumed than real work completed even with the exams just over a month away. Confident Harry would thrive under pressure as he always did, Cassy did not protest when he would become distracted or fabricate half his Divination homework with Neville and Ron.

It was towards the end of the holidays that posters were spread across the school announcing the upcoming careers advice sessions beginning next week for all fifth-year students. Leaflets appeared in the common rooms and any time between revision and eating was then spared thinking over what it was everyone wished to peruse in the future. In the Gryffindor Tower, it read:

_CAREERS ADVICE_

_All fifth-years are required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the summer term to discuss their future careers. Time of individual appointments are listed below._

Cassy was top of the alphabetical list of fifth-year Gryffindors and was scheduled for ten o'clock Monday morning with everyone else later that day. It was fortunate that she was going first really because it seemed like she was the only one of her friends who had the slightest idea what they wanted to do. Leaflets were spread between them on the floor and even Ginny was flicking through them idly.

Ron picked up one and put it straight back down. He said, 'The qualifications they want for some of these are insane!'

'The best jobs are usually not the easy ones,' commented Hermione, who had taken nearly all the legal and advocating leaflets for herself.

Neville was nervously collecting everything on the lower end of the spectrum, not even bothering to touch anything Hermione had picked up in interest, while Harry read with the sort of interest one might display when reading the blurb of a particularly uncertain book purchase.

By the time Monday came around, the entire year had burst into nervous chatter of pre-planned discussions. Cassy left mid-way through History of Magic without an explanation to Professor Binns, it was not as though he would actually hear her anyway, and made her way to Professor McGonagall's office. She waited until exactly ten o'clock and then knocked loudly three times.

'Come in,' called a voice from within.

She poked her head around the door and greeted, 'Professor.' She then looked to the side as a shuffle of movement caught her eye and with much more carefully disguised dismay, greeted the same to Professor Umbridge, who had hidden herself in a corner of the office, clipboard and all.

'Black, take a seat,' ordered Professor McGonagall. 'We are here to discuss any career ideas you may have and I will do my best to advise you on what NEWTs to take and what options post-Hogwarts are available for you.'

Cassy nodded. Her hands were folded in her lap as she sat in the seat opposite. Professor Umbridge was already scribbling notes behind. Ignoring her, she said, 'I would like to be an Unspeakable, I think.'

There was no raised eyebrows or pointed stares from her Head of House as there would have been on anyone else's face.

'I am not surprised,' said Professor McGonagall, already searching through the leaflets on her desk. 'You need top grades, then to pass a mental comprehension test with could occur at any time in the allotted test period, even at home or while out with friends. You must be able to demonstrate clear thinking and critical understanding in everything you do in life.'

'Perhaps Miss Black should begin to work on that immediately if she intends for such a career. Certain beliefs and ideals must be reconsidered constantly as an Unspeakable, they cannot be stubborn in their thinking,' came the irritatingly sweet voice of Professor Umbridge and Cassy did not have to look behind her to know she was smiling widely.

'With all due respect, Professor, I hardly believe considering Muggleborns to be of equal worth to Purebloods will hold back my career prospects greatly,' said Cassy calmly, not even turning to her.

'I quite agree, Miss Black, now, there is not much more I can explain to you than the leaflet does. Unspeakable work is top secret. They are sworn to never divulge their work and no one is sure what is being done right now or at any period of time. It is not work you will be praised for besides a generally impressed congratulations that you are capable of such a career.'

Professor McGonagall flicked through a stack of sheets on her desk and pulled out one titled:

_CASSIOPEIA MARILYN BLACK_

_NOVEMBER 14TH 1979_

'Your current grades suggest you are more than capable of fulfilling the academic criteria and I know from your various endeavours around the school through the years that you have initiative and quick thinking, however, there is no clear way of entry into being an Unspeakable. They take only the best and in the last fifteen-years I have not heard of a single student applying for the role and being accepted. While I see no reason you would not be accepted, do you have a second plan?'

'If not I am considering working on the treatments of Dark ailments, perhaps specialise in Werewolves,' she said.

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow and looked pleasantly surprised.

'I am not sure what kind of a career market there is for that. You would have to get in touch with numerous people to work it out and even then that is something proven near impossible,' she said. While her words were not encouraging, her face and tone suggested she thought it was an excellent career idea.

'Believe me, Professor, I have the means to be self-sufficient while working out the details of it,' said Cassy with a smile.

'Sorry to interrupt again, Minerva,' called Professor Umbridge. 'But is Miss Black aware that it was me who drafted the latest anti-werewolf legislation? If she wishes to speak to someone about them then I would be willing to answer any questions.'

Professor McGonagall crinkled her nose and said, 'Thank-you for that, but I know Black has a keen interest in politics. I have seen her reading _The Lords_ enough over the years to assume she did indeed already know that.'

Cassy was thankful for her teachers quick defence. She had begun to roll her lip between her teeth in an effort not to speak out in disgust at the woman's work. Instead, she shifted in her seat and drew Professor McGonagall's attention back to her.

'I was thinking of trying to create my own independent line of work with them rather than join an existing field. I have some ideas on them already and would like to be able to use my own theories on their transformations,' she explained and Professor McGonagall peered over the rim of her glasses at her seriously.

'That will require tireless work,' she said.

'I know,' agreed Cassy. 'I have been thinking about it for several years now.'

The Head of House did not ask further about it. She undoubtedly knew where Cassy's werewolf inspiration and fascination had come from and without wanting to spur on a debate with Professor Umbridge, she quickly looked back down at her grades.

'Given your latest results, I am certain you will get impressive overall OWL scores this summer and will be able to do whatever it is you have in mind,' she said.

'Forgive me, Professor, but I do not think it is wise to encourage children to gallivant with werewolves at their own discretion,' interrupted Professor Umbridge.

Professor McGonagall ignored her, handed Cassy several leaflets and said, 'You will need Potions, Defence, Transfiguration, Herbology, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and Charms for either goal of yours. Seven if the maximum I am willing to allow.'

'I was wondering about Alchemy actually, Professor,' said Cassy.

'Miss Black,' she sighed. 'You do realise that NEWTs is more difficult than OWLs? You are already taking ten OWLs, more than most others. Do you not think the workload for eight NEWTs will be too much?'

No, in fact, it is boring more than anything, answered Cassy mentally.

'Is there no way I can take alchemy related classes? Even a distance learning course?' she asked.

Professor McGonagall sighed heavily and fixed her with a very pointed stare. Cassy knew the threat of 'What would your father think?' was on her lips and had Professor Umbridge not been present Cassy probably would have made a joke about how disappointed he would be to learn she was asking for extra work. She left with a promise that her Head of House would see what she could do about alchemy. If there was enough interest from other students then they might be able to work something out, although there was no guarantee.

Cassy left the meeting just in time to attend break. She did not tell anyone of her plans and instead focused on the irritating mound of unwanted pink frills in the corner of the classroom. Everyone groaned loudly and quickly began to rethink their planned conversations to avoid having to speak to the new headmistress as much as possible. The mood did not lift in potions class as Professor Snape threatened homework on the next two people who left for their meetings. Although Harry did manage a healthy looking Invigoration Draught.

'I'm definitely getting at least an "E" on this,' he said with relief as he filled up his vile.

Cassy smiled as he moved to put his sample of the desk at the front. Without warning, Malfoy bumped shoulders with him and sent the sample crashing to the ground. Professor Snape glanced over at them with disinterested eyes before turning to continue to berate Neville. Harry growled by returned to his desk and filled up another vile. With narrowed eyes, Cassy watched Malfoy double back around with his wand drawn to undoubtedly make him drop another sample, but Cassy was quicker and his wand was out of his hand in an instant. It sunk slowly into the cauldron of steaming cement Crabbe had made.

Malfoy let out a shriek of horror. Cassy busied herself cleaning and, when no one was watching, filled a vial of it and stuffed it in her inner pocket.

Hermione disappeared for half-an-hour at the start of Ancient Runes and returned to her seat with a beaming smile. Frantically, she scanned over the notes Cassy had duplicated with the use of a charmed quill to mimic her owns movements. She scribbled down the rest of what Professor Babbling dictated before class was dismissed. As soon as they exited, Hermione burst into an excited jig that Cassy had only ever seen her do when related to work.

'Professor McGonagall thinks I am right on track to work in Creature relations,' she gushed.

Cassy had a feeling Hermione would want to continue SPEW further, but was very grateful she had not. It was enough of a nightmare finding badges declaring her allegiance pinned to everything she owned last year, let alone in the presence of Professor Umbridge.

'Have you ever tried being excited about something other than work?' asked Cassy, amused.

'Have you ever tried being excited about anything at all?' countered Hermione.

The pair playfully bickered all the way to the Great Hall for lunch. People eyed them warily as they passed, unsure if the growing pointedness of the insults were real or not. Neville tuned them out and dug at him soup without ever once trying to calm the conversation. Dean and Seamus watched in amazement that neither girl had snapped yet and if it was not to the occasional glance from both to check the other was still playing along no one would have known there was nothing vicious in it at all.

'Are they always like this?' muttered Seamus loudly.

'They never agree,' told Dean knowingly. 'They're too alike.'

'We are not alike!' protested Cassy and Hermione simultaneously.

'Some of us are actually capable of following good instructions,' said Hermione tartly, her nose pointing upwards snootily.

Although not at all insulted by the comparison, Cassy made sure to look disinterested as she ripped apart a roll and said, 'And some of us are capable of independent thought to improve upon such instructions, but we cannot all be thinkers.'

She smirked and Hermione made an indignant sound, mouth agape.

'How rude! I think!' she protested and Cassy smirked, ready to challenge.

As she leant forward to pat Hermione's arm patronizingly with a soft 'yes, yes', Harry dropped onto the bench beside her. He eyes the two warily before he turned to Ron.

'How was your meeting?' asked Ron eagerly.

'Pretty good, actually. Umbridge tried to tell me I wasn't qualified for anything, but McGonagall assured her I got good marks in Defence with any competent teacher,' he grinned.

Everyone roared with laughter.

'Did she actually say that?' asked Hermione with a deeply satisfied smirk.

He nodded. 'She even offered to tutor me so I can get the grades I need to be an Auror, but I said I already had one of those.' He turned to Cassy, who was smiling, despite trying to detach the hand of spaghetti from her arm that Hermione had cursed to rise from the serving dish.

'Umbridge even accused McGonagall of wanting Dumbledore to take over as Minister of Magic,' he continued. 'She called her mad and I left at that point.'

'I wish I could have seen that! Imagine McGonagall verses Umbridge,' said Ron.

'Umbridge would lose,' said Dean.

'Yeah, there's no way McGonagall would lose to her. Not a chance,' agreed Seamus.

While vivid descriptions of the theoretical fight began to take shape, Cassy turned to Neville. She had not heard him laugh and he had yet to comment on anything that had been said. He did not greet her when she sat and neither did he ask after Hermione's meeting. In fact, he remained much as he had been when she had arrived, stooped over and moving his soup slowly in the bowl. She frowned.

'Neville,' she whispered.

He did not respond. Unwilling to bring attention to his sadness, she reached across the table and patted his arm, before retracting it quickly to make it look as though she had merely been reaching for another bread roll. He glanced up quickly and then immediately back down at his lunch.

'What's wrong?' she asked.

He shrugged.

'Was it your meeting?' she pressed.

Neville frowned. 'I suppose that's obvious, isn't it? That I would be told I'm not good enough to do what I want to do.'

'Do you want to talk about it?' she offered. 'We could go outside.'

'Forget it. Don't worry about me,' he said, waving the spoon.

'You know I'm here if you need me,' she said, frowning again. It was unlike Neville to reject an offer of help. He had never had any issue speaking with her before, even in first-year when she would really rather he leave her alone. He nodded slightly back at her and offered a watery smile. The shine in his eyes was oddly bright and upon closer inspection, Cassy realised Neville had been crying.

'Unless you can get me top grades next month then there is nothing you can do. I'll never be an Auror. Nothing Professor McGonagall could do or say could change that,' he said, still smiling. 'She suggested I speak to Professor Sprout about being a botanist or something, maybe even a teacher, but Umbridge just laughed at that suggestion.'

'Ignore her,' instructed Cassy firmly.

'She's right, though,' he said. 'You can't even say she's not. I'm not smart enough to be an Auror and I would just get walked over as a teacher.' He slid from his seat and collected his things with an unusual air of invisibility. No one seemed to notice his departure besides Cassy and as she looked around at their friends, she realised none of them had noticed there was anything wrong at all. She too rose from her seat and hurried after him. He said nothing as she fell into step with him, although she noted a slight increase in pace, as though he could possibly outpace her and avoid talking any longer.

'Neville,' she said firmly. 'I understand if you do not want to talk about it. I also understand why you want to be an Auror and I know it must be difficult to be told otherwise, but you are selling yourself too short. You have confidence and you have skills when you need them. You overthink and that is your problem. You would be a brilliant teacher if that is what you wanted.'

The fact that Neville wanted to be an Auror in memory of his parents was left unsaid. She thought it was a terrible idea. Neville was kind-hearted, he was someone who could offer support and advice and comfort. Dumbledore's Army proved what the years before had not and that he could indeed fight when needed, but she was certain that was not his calling. In a state of constant combat he would manage, but he would not thrive, in the same way Cassy knew she could never be an Auror. They were meant for something else.

The remainder of lunch was spent with Cassy hopelessly trying to cheer Neville up. She had gone over his other talents, his options, and even ventured into the unspoken territory of what she valued in him as a person, although she internally withered at having to verbalise her sentiment. It would have been much better had she brought Hermione with her, she thought. Hermione was much more tactful when it concerned genuine feelings and although Cassy was confident she could talk her way out of nearly anything, she was only slightly more able to comfort at sixteen-years-old than she had been at eleven without feeling like a fool.

The pair of them slunk into Defence Against the Dark Arts just in time and took their usual seats. She spent most of the lesson trying to catch Hermione's attention and communicate the problem non-verbally, but only twice did she look her way and both times resulted in a questioning raised eyebrow. She huffed heavily and scribbled out a note. Coughing as she ripped the parchment to cover the sound, she then folded it into a paper plane as Dean had once shown her and threw it directly into Hermione's bushy hair.

The other scowled and Cassy looked back at her notes. She could easily tell Hermione afterwards about it, but she wanted her to talk to Neville as soon as class was over before he had a chance to slink away again. Hermione unfolded the note which simply had an arrow pointing to her left with the word 'sad' beneath it. She turned back to Cassy with an expression of concern and annoyance.

There was a sudden pop outside and a surge of voices followed. Another bang rang out somewhere in the distance.

'Face forward, please. Do not look at the door,' said Professor Umbridge calmly.

Everyone who had turned to peer turned back again, but the noises did not stop. They became louder and louder and the bangs continued to echo through the castle. A shriek; a pop; a fizzle that sounded distinctly like a firework.

'Stay here,' said Professor Umbridge sternly. The moment the door was open the sounds became incredibly loud; voices echoed up and down the halls, the cheers and screams of curious students who had already left their classrooms. Seamus crept to the door and poked his head out.

'She's gone!' he announced and everyone rushed from their seats and down the hall in the direction of all the commotion. They emerged at the staircases. The marble railings were lined with students and at the moment they halted, the nearest door opened and Professor McGonagall stepped forth with a class of curious sixth-years lingering behind. Her wand was drawn and she surveyed the scene below severely. Footprints stained every floor and several students stood with a thick, black paste coating from their feet to their knees. Splatters of yellow and green covered many more and the empty shells of fireworks littered the ground floor far below.

With a sniff, she moved forward to banish the cause of the commotion, but Professor Umbridge came bumbling through at that moment with her own wand drawn at the slowly spreading swamp at the foot of the staircase. Whatever it was she did, did not work and instead made the swamp bubble and swell.

Cassy glanced at Professor McGonagall, only to find her wand had been tucked back in her pocket.

As more flashes and crashes fill the lower halls, Professor Umbridge looked frantically up at the upper levels. She set her beady eyes on Professor McGonagall and ordered her immediate assistance. To her credit, Professor McGonagall did move down the staircases with her wand drawn, although very lazily and Cassy was not entirely certain she was putting any effort into the spells at all. It looked as though she was making the hand movements and not completing the spell, except for one which caused the swamp to surge and consume the Headmistress' pink shoes.

'Does this have anything to do with your brothers?' asked Hermione with her best forced disapproving face.

'I hope so,' breathed Ron.

'Filch! Inquisitorial Squad!' screeched Professor Umbridge. 'Round up whoever is responsible for this! Filch, get the whip.'

Filch's cry of delight ricocheted off the walls.

Everyone ignored the Headmistress' demands they return to class and as the bell rang to signal class changeover even more people joined the spectacle. Several teacher loitered in the crowds, but like Professor McGonagall, made no effort to help the situation. The noise died suddenly and an ecstatic yell broke through.

'We've got them,' called Malfoy, beaming. Behind him were Cassius Warrington, an upper year Slytherin, and Millicent Bulstrode, a black-haired, square-jawed and tall Slytherin girl. Each held one Weasley twin, who struggled and writhed; despite their stocky builds, they could not escape the chains summoned around them. Thrown onto the floor at the Headmistress' feet, they glared up at her with utter contempt, void of their usual boisterousness.

Ron paled.

'So, you think you can just set fireworks and swamps loose in my school?' she drawled.

'Well, yeah, it is what just happened,' said Fred blandly.

'Well, you can't!' she snapped loudly. She turned to Filch, who pushed his way through the crowds, long cords in hand. 'I think a public punishment will demonstrate to the entire school here what happens when you disobey my rules.'

Filch hopped on the spot, almost salivating at the chance to finally use his weapons.

'I don't think we're up for that,' said George with a shrug.

'It's not an option!' shrieked Professor Umbridge.

'It is if we're not students here anymore and you know what, George?' said Fred.

'What, Fred?' said George.

'I think we might have outgrown education,' said Fred.

'You know, Fred, I had just been thinking the same thing,' he replied and flicked his wand.

They pair rose and towered over Professor Umbridge. Her hands were on her hips and she sneered, widening her toad-like mouth even further.

'You leave when I tell you to,' she growled.

There was no negotiation though for a sudden crack rang loudly and two broomsticks shot passed the gathered students and straight at Fred and George. From years of Quidditch practice, the two effortlessly jumped and mounted their moving broomsticks and flew high out of reach.

'We don't want you to keep in touch,' called Fred.

'Yes, please be sure to leave us very much alone. Your company shall not be missed,' said George. He then turned to gaze at the mass of watching students. 'If anyone wants to buy a portable swamp, come to ninety-three, Diagon Alley and look for Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.'

Fred grinned and turned to Peeves, who had very much enjoyed the commotion.

'Give her hell from us, Peeves,' he said.

Peeves saluted as the Fred and George flew off into the darkening sky, chain pegs still hanging from the ends of their brooms.

* * *

**Thank-you for the reviews on the last chapter. **

**I hope you enjoy this one. Just one more after this before the trip to the Ministry begins and the final arc of the year is underway! There are thirty-five chapters in all for the year, so we're on the home stretch.**

**Thanks!**


	30. Giant visitors and mammoth exams

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXX: ****Giant visitors and mammoth exams**

As exams drew ever closer, Cassy thought there were few people who had been as energised by Professor Umbridge's struggles as Harry. He smiled more, particularly each time someone threatened to 'pull a Weasley' after a terrible lesson, or when her shrieks echoed down the halls as she failed to vanish another bog. While they would normally be gone within a day under anyone else's leadership, the staff were happy to leave the new Headmistress to struggle. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick did not even reprimand passing students who laughed as they watched idly and pretended to brainstorm solutions.

The twins' growing legends, the conversation with Sirius and Remus, and the knowledge their vile professor was loathing every moment of her job pacified Harry like nothing else had ever done. Revision was going well, oddly well even, although Cassy could think of several other reasons he seemed to enjoy it so much.

Her arms were wrapped around his neck in the darkened aisle of the library. His were around her waist as he pulled her closer.

'If anyone takes our table, I will kill you,' she muttered.

'Or you could just kill them and reclaim it,' he murmured, his forehead against hers.

'I can do both,' she said.

The night's revision had been going rather slowly as Harry attempted to avoid touching Potions after their latest lesson and Professor Snape's particularly cruel grading. Harry had found something he had much rather do and despite Cassy's small complaints, she really did not mind at all.

'Ew, get a room, you two.'

Harry huffed and grinned. His chin moved to rest on Cassy's head as the pair of them turned. He said, 'What is it with you Weasleys and interrupting us.'

'I don't even want to know what that means,' said Ginny playfully.

'It's not like I have not walked in on you and Corner anyway,' added Cassy and Ginny smirked and shrugged.

'What does that mean?' came a loud demand.

Ginny rolled her eyes and Cassy and Harry parted in the wake of the upcoming storm. Ron stomped into view from another aisle, red-faced and glowering.

'We were just kissing,' huffed Ginny, her arms folded.

'I don't care. I don't want people to think my sister is some sort of – of – of scarlet woman!' he cried.

Ginny laughed hollowly, 'Just because you don't have a girlfriend doesn't mean I have to be alone.'

Ron turned a deep maroon, almost purple colour reminiscent of when Cassy had first met Harry's Uncle Vernon.

'We should revise,' said Harry suddenly.

'Great idea,' agreed Cassy.

The pair were gone before Ron had a chance to explode and neither wanted to witness the full extent of Ginny's biting anger. The table they had previously occupied was still free and their things were untouched. The sound of Ginny's cold laugh ripped through the quiet library. Heads turned.

'They have been fighting much more than usual,' comment Cassy.

'I think it's the Quidditch match tomorrow,' admitted Harry. 'We have to win or we'll be out of the running.'

Cassy hummed. 'I was going to ask you earlier before you so rudely interrupted me, was what do you plan to tell Hermione when she asks after Occlumency again?'

Harry groaned. Hermione had asked in concern after she had finally heard of the incident. As Harry's mood improved, he soon told their friends about the memory and the subsequent consequence; Hermione was mortified. Cassy had told him on more than one occasion that she believed Hermione's concern to be well justified. He needed to continue the lessons as soon as possible, but she equally understood what was stopping him from asking. Had she been in his position, she very much believed she would much rather die than beg for Professor Snape's help.

'I know she means well, but I wish she'd stop asking. It's not like we're not doing anything about it,' he said.

'Yes, but Voldemort has sixty-years more experience than me,' Cassy pointed out. She began to fear Harry had put too much trust in her and her ability to know and learn everything. She could not teach him like a fully trained Occlumens could. It was fine to practice between lessons, but she knew she was not capable of fully qualifying him for a fight against Voldemort's mind right then.

'Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt when you jab my mind,' he said. 'Sometimes I block.'

'A good Legilimens would be undetectable. You would have to chance to know it was happening,' she stressed.

Harry made a non-committal noise in return and Cassy knew she had upset him.

'I'm not trying to upset you,' she said.

'I'm not upset,' he said quickly and distantly as he began to once again work on his essay.

She frowned and returned to her own work without another word. She had even offered to accompany him to see Professor Snape so he had moral support to agree what an unreasonable hag he had surely been after Harry asked, but he refused. So, she left the unrelenting pressure to make him ask to Hermione, who did not fail her later that evening when she once again rounded onto the subject. However, the conversation soon turned to Quidditch as the team entered the common room moments later from a last minute practise session.

The next morning was filled with anxious stares and encouraging cheers. Ron slunk off mid-way through breakfast and Ginny had moved to kiss her boyfriend for good luck, although Corner was eyeing the Gryffindor team as though Ravenclaw had already won. Cassy idly wondered if the match would be the one to finally break their relationship. They had been on a 'last attempt' for a while now.

Luna waltzed up to them in her eagle hat and sat beside Neville while it cawed loudly. She smiled with a distinct vagueness to her expression that Cassy had come to learn meant she was excited.

'Ron seemed happy just now,' she said.

'Really?' asked Harry sceptically.

'Oh, yes. He seemed quite optimistic about the match. He said there was nothing left to lose anymore. Everyone knows he is going to fail so no matter how badly he plays it won't matter, at least, that's how he greeted me in the Entrance Hall just now,' she said.

Everyone sighed. The feeling of inevitable disappointment did not fade by the time they climbed high into the stands or by the time the match had begun. It was fortunate Luna had moved to stand with her own House. Within the first five minutes, Ravenclaw had already scored twice. Gryffindors Beaters were failing to deter and their Chasers were failing to intercept. Ron, as the final hurdle, was failing to defend. Even as Hermione murmured encouraging words, the Slytherin chant began to resonate from the stands once more, louder and louder each and every time Ravenclaw was in possession. The other team members were working twice as hard in an attempt to prevent the other team from even having the opportunity to make it thirty-feet to the goal posts.

'It'll be fine as long as Ginny can catch the Snitch,' said Neville optimistically.

Another goal to Ravenclaw.

Cassy looked above. Ginny circled high in the sky in opposite rotations to Cho Chang.

The crowd rang again and it was no longer just the Slytherin's singing.

'Hey!' came a loud hiss from behind.

Only mildly surprised – it was hardly the first time they had been disturbed during a Quidditch match – Cassy turned at the familiar voice of Hagrid. He was as bruised and beaten as ever with a new cut down his left cheekbone and several fresh grazes on his knuckles, as though he had been pressed harshly against stone or bark. His dire appearance had attracted several curious stares from the younger years, especially the first years who had gotten pleasantly used to Professor Grubbly-Plank. As he glanced around them, his appearance shifted from urgent to just nervous.

'Can you four come with me? I've er – I've got somethin' to show yeh,' he said in a tone that suggested he was supposed to have whispered it.

'Can it wait?' asked Harry as Lee Jordon swore loudly and cheers erupted again.

'No,' said Hagrid quickly.

Cassy's eyes narrowed. She commented, 'You are bleeding, there, in your hairline.' A trickle of blood had moved slowly through his wiry hair down to the joint of his ear. 'Hagrid, what have you done?'

He waved his hand and laughed loudly, too loudly, in fact, to be natural.

Frowning, Cassy, Harry, Neville, and Hermione each agreed to accompany him out of the stadium. Of all times he felt the need to divulge important information it was during the most critical match of the season and although Cassy had no love for the sport, it had grown on her enough that she did not want to lose and she had wanted to see Ginny's match as Seeker.

Harry glanced back as they left the stands. Professor Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad were sat in one of the box stands, but their attention was fixed solely on the match.

They made it to the edge of the grounds when Hagrid called for them to stop. There was nothing visible around them. Hagrid slipped into his hut. The sounds of the match were still audible and the enthusiastic 'Weasley is out King' song bellowed clearly even at such a distance. A click and a slam indicated Hagrid had left his hut again, only this time he emerged with a crossbow.

Into the forest it is then, thought Cassy, unsurprised by where he kept his dangerous creatures anymore.

'Hagrid, we have our wands to defend ourselves, we don't need the bow,' said Hermione.

He shifted uneasily. They were led deeper and deeper into the wood. Soon enough, rocks were overturned and strong, old trees were torn up by their roots and the bones of deer scattered around them. Considering the man had a three-headed dog and an Acromantula hidden within the depths of the Forbidden Forest, it was not surprising that one more could be smuggled inside. However, this devastation was wild. It was not the sign of a nest, or a home being built. It looked like rage. Such anger and destructive power were almost awe inspiring. The strength of the creature would have to be immense. The creature would most likely be huge, with large limbs and little sense to rip apart its surroundings so blindly.

'Hagrid,' said Cassy lowly. 'You better not have brought back what I think you have.'

Hagrid ignored her. 'We're not goin' too far in. The Centaurs aren't happy with us humans now that Firenze has left.'

Centaurs were notoriously stubborn on their opinions of humans. To work for them was servitude and to save them was questionable at least. Firenze having gone into work for Dumbledore would have shaken their herd and there was little doubt what had caused the deep purple bruising across his torso that was just visible on the neckline of his shirt.

'They're not impressed with me either,' admitted Hagrid. 'I stepped in to stop them killin' him when they found out he was working up at the castle. This bow's not for what I'm about ter show yer.'

'Is it really safe for us to be here?' asked Neville nervously.

'They won't attack kids,' said Hagrid confidently.

'No, but the giant you brought back from Europe might,' said Cassy bluntly.

Hagrid tripped over a tree root.

'What?' demanded Harry and Neville loudly.

'Don't even try and deny it, Hagrid,' said Hermione firmly. 'Look around us. These are all the signs of a Giant habitat.'

The further they had trekked into the forest, the denser the canopy above and the darker the surroundings. Upheaved soil and the dark, fractured bark covered the new shoots, extinguishing much of the colour. Dense moss grew from the wet spring, smothering their footfalls. The four drew their wands. They waited as Hagrid tried to find something to say.

'What makes you so sure I have a giant with me?' he asked at last.

Everyone stared, dumbfounded.

'Because you brought a dragon off a bloke in the pub?' said Harry.

'Because you keep a three-headed dog?' offered Neville.

'Because you had a pet acromantula you released into this very forest?' stated Cassy.

'Because we know you well enough, Hagrid,' finished Hermione seriously. 'I assume that's why you're always so beaten up.'

Hagrid shifted and said, 'He doesn't mean to. I'm teaching him better manners. Look, normally I wouldn't ask this of yer, but Umbridge thinks I'm the one putting Nifflers in her office, so I won't likely be around much longer. The only reason I haven't left is because of Grawp.'

Neville mouthed the name nervously.

'You can't let her drive you out, Hagrid!' protested Harry, but Hagrid waved his hand flippantly.

'At least if I left I would be of some use to Dumbledore. I can't do much up here with her around,' he said, unconcerned. 'I know yer probably think this is another one of my silly projects, but I wouldn't show yeh if yer help wasn't important.'

Cassy did not want to take care of a giant. This was not a dog that could be tamed, fed each day and left to its own devices. Giants were powerful, they were destructive and they had no place in a school. Their culture was brutal and if Hagrid had managed to civilise him, which she had no doubt was possible within a thorough regime, then that was excellent. Yet it did not change the fact that a giant lay in twenty-foot in front of her and within easy running distance of the school should be one day venture far enough to see it.

'What were you thinking, though, Hagrid!' hissed Hermione.

The giant lay on his side, turned away from them. His torso heaved with great inhales and exhales and his snores sounded like a muffled call of a whale, deep and slow.

Cassy crept forward.

'None of them wanted to come,' said Hagrid mournfully.

'You should have left them then!' cried Neville.

Cassy would be satisfied if she could just see his face. Photographs of their faces were rare. They were always taken at a great distance or from below.

'Hagrid, how are we supposed to care for a fully grown giant?' asked Harry heavily.

'He's actually smaller than I expected. Is something wrong with him?' asked Cassy. She stood some distance away from the group, but with the growing conversation she decided not to creep around the giant in case their chatter woke him. Had she been alone she would have circled him and been back by now.

'He's a runt – Cassy! Get back here!' snapped Hagrid.

The giant grunted at the sound and Cassy quickly walked back to Hagrid's side, wand drawn, although she knew it would probably of little combatant use.

'This is Grawp,' said Hagrid evenly. 'He's my half-brother, my mum's son.'

There were a few raised eyebrows, but that was not what was important to anyone right now. What everyone wanted to know was how Hagrid could have possibly smuggled a giant – runt or not – into Britain at all. In the end, it was Neville who asked.

'Well, we did a lot of travelling at night, though Grawp wasn't keen. He didn't want ter leave, yer see,' recalled Hagrid simply.

'If he didn't want to go, then why force him?' asked Hermione.

'I couldn't just leave him! They would've killed him,' protested Hagrid loudly.

The conversation was going to go around in circles, so despite her senses telling her not to, Cassy ventured around to the front of Grawp. Her curiosity finally got the better of her and she was determined to use the valuable little time them had left with him sleeping to observe him properly. Unsurprisingly, his head was round like a boulder and his hair was tightly curled. He had little neck and a wide nose and tiny, closed eyes.

'I want ter teach him – for Merlin's sake, Cassy, get back here. If he learns what it's like here, he'll want ter stay.

No one responded immediately. Hermione sat on a stump with her head in her hands while Neville was completely still, pale and rigid at the mere concept of training a giant. Harry chewed on his lip. It was only Cassy who stared critically at the sleeping form.

'What would you have us do, Hagrid?' she asked stiffly.

'Well, jus' keep him company, you know, so he doesn't get lonely. I've been teaching him some words, he knows my name and good and bad,' he said uneasily. The tone of her voice must have shaken him out of his endless optimism. Cassy did not want to care for a giant. She could not care for a giant.

'Hagrid, look at yourself. You are bruised and bleeding. We do not have your skin or your bones. If we were to be hit like you have been we would most likely die,' she said seriously.

She did not want to see the sadness pull at his features, but it was the only way to get through to him that this was an awful idea.

'What she means, Hagrid, is that we can only try,' said Harry. 'We have magic, but it isn't usually effective and we can't be seen to be sneaking off here too often or Umbridge will catch us. We'll see what we can do, I promise you that.'

Soft hearted as always, thought Cassy with an inward sigh. If Harry wanted to care for it then he could. Cassy would observe his behaviour from a distance because she knew she might never get a chance to study one so closely again.

'It is obvious he cannot be left alone,' she conceded. Truthfully, she had no idea what to do with Grawp, but he could not be left alone in case he grew bored or hungry and ventured too close to the grounds. They had to do something, whether for safety or as a favour to a friend, but she was not pleased.

Hagrid's eyes lit up and he sagged in relief. With a big smile, he said, 'The centaurs might give yer a bit of trouble, they don't like him here, but they won't hurt yer because yer kids. Now, let's wake him so I can introduce you all!'

'_Hagrid, no!'_

* * *

Hagrid woke him regardless of their outcry. Grawp had taken a particular liking to Hermione and had tried to pick her up twice. The commotion had drawn the attention of the centaurs, their bows pointed at the teens' chests and their lips drawn back in sneers. Everyone retreated to the forest edge shortly after that, although Hagrid refused to see the threats as of any serious consequence. He maintained they would not kill children and Cassy very much thought the power of their youth was draining when they were all nearly of age.

They returned to the castle with distant chants of 'Weasley is our king' still echoing through the grounds. As they listened, though, it was not the usual song, but instead:

_Weasley can save anything,_

_He never leaves a single ring,_

_That's why Gryffindors all sing,_

_Weasley is our king!_

For a moment, there was only silence, before Harry and Neville burst into joyous laughter and the four sprinted up the steps to the common room, where, sure enough, it was alive with red and gold. Ron was hoisted on the shoulders of two seventh-year boys and a merry feast had been laid across every surface, inevitably stolen from the kitchens. Ron's miraculous recovery was something of a surprise to everyone who gazed upon him, but no one dared to say it. Instead, there were a lot of pats on his shoulder and calls of 'I knew you could do it'.

When they asked Ginny about it, she merely said it surprised her too, but once he had accidentally saved one goal, the rest came naturally. She had caught the Snitch and Gryffindor won by ten points in the end, despite their disastrous beginning. She then frowned.

'Why do you have to ask?' she said suspiciously.

In a quieter corner of the common room, the four sat with her and explained everything. Ginny looked relieved she was not there, she seemed to be under the very false impression it voided her of any responsibility towards Grawp. Everyone had their fingers crossed that Hagrid would not be fired more than ever before, but each of them knew it was merely a matter of time. Professor Umbridge had already got rid Professor Trelawney, so Hagrid was just another liability to be struck off. Probation was not an opportunity to prove himself worthy. It was just a title while she bided her time to find someone to replace him.

With exams growing ever closer, it was more and more likely that Hagrid would not make it passed the end of the year's lessons. There was not much time to consider it, though, for every available moment was dedicated to revision. The remainder of their class times were revision based and books and notes even made their way out onto the tables at meal times. Panic surged amongst the fifth-years, particularly Hermione, although Cassy remained coolly confident she was not going to fail anything. However, in her absolute determination to beat Hermione's grades, she kept up dutifully with the other's manic work schedule.

'It's not what you know that matters, it's who you know,' said Malfoy loudly in the corridor one day.

'Ignore him, Neville,' instructed Cassy calmly as Neville began to shrink into himself visibly at the words. 'It is just a front to reinflate his ego after the sight of his dreadful grades.'

Neville grinned while Harry and Hermione sniggered behind her. Malfoy turned with a sneer and Cassy pretended to have not said anything at all.

As they passed, however, Neville let the smile slip again and said, 'Gran knows Griselda Marchbanks, the Head of Wizarding Examinations, but that won't help me at all. Gran goes on and on to her about how I'm not as good as my dad.'

Cassy frowned distastefully. Mrs Longbottom was a fiery lady and Cassy admired her strength very much, but sometimes she really did hate her.

'Confidence, Neville,' commanded Cassy. 'We have been through this. You are your own worst enemy and please tell me the tablets I saw you take at breakfast today were not those false brain stimulants Ron was raving about on Monday.'

His pink cheeks told her all she needed to know. She held out her hand expectantly and he gave the packet over wordlessly. She then turned and threw it over the ledge and straight into the back on Ron's head.

He shrieked and turned, demanding, 'What the bloody hell did you do that for?'

'Stop selling fake merchandise to people! They do not work and in case you have failed to hear several people have been reduced to bedrest for eating what was actually Doxy eggs. You are a Prefect, for Merlin's sake,' snapped Cassy.

'I didn't sell them!' protested Ron, scowling. 'I just know people what sell them, it's totally different and if one of them happens to work then that's great.'

'Ron!' scolded Hermione, who had turned at the shouting in the busy corridor.

'It's not like he actually paid anything for it. We split what we took from Zacharias Smith – '

'Ron!' she roared.

The Black Market amongst the students was always rife every exam season, but never had so many people Cassy knew delved into their pockets to pay for such nonsense miracle cures to their revision blues. It was amusing to watch, particularly the part where Hermione burnt several boxes of pills and potions in the common room fire, but Cassy put her foot down when Neville had been enticed into it. They would not work and the last thing he needed was to assume any success he had come from any source but himself. To prove the uselessness, Cassy concocted an identifying potion late one night which changed colour as various ingredients were identified. Mostly household items or crushed potions ingredients, but it had stopped him thinking of ingesting any more.

The day of the first exam was met with silence. Breakfast was eaten without a word. Everyone's eyes were keenly searching for the examiners they had seen arrive the night before, but there was no sign of them, even as they were ejected into the entrance hall while the Great Hall was being set-up for the exam.

During the exam, the examiners strode up and down the aisles as if on clockwork. Carefully, Cassy tuned them out and focused calmly on the questions in front of her. A single quill was already etching away at the answer booklet, undoubtedly Hermione's.

The rest of the exams were much like the first. Late nights and tense mornings, the two weeks of examinations were two of the quickest Cassy had ever had and left her wanting more time to study, despite knowing the textbooks inside and out. The practical exams were the worst. They were taken with only the student and the examiner or sometimes with multiple students waiting around the periphery. However, immediately it was known how they had done and Harry much preferred them while Cassy favoured writing. Not that she thought she had not done well. To her knowledge, she had not made a mistake on any of the practical exams, even Potions where the instructions were slightly miswritten; an entire gram of root was over-calculated for what she knew the Befuddlement Potion required. In the end, her potion had a brighter sheen to it, but almost everyone's was a canary yellow as Professor Snape's lack of presence allowed for positive progress.

Hermione fretted over the error so much that she almost made herself sick before their Herbology exam that afternoon. Defence Against the Dark Arts was another exam that Cassy had complete faith in herself for and it was the only one Harry had left grinning. It helped that for half the year they had been illegally practicing many of the spells, but it helped even more that while Cassy had been teaching Harry all the other classes he took, he had returned the favour and continued to give her tips on Defence. Cassy, Harry, Neville, and Hermione each basked in the satisfaction of Professor Umbridge's furious face at the sight of their success. Harry had even been asked to produce a Patronus and the squeals of the examiner were audible even behind closed doors.

Ancient Runes had Hermione almost in tears as she realised she had mistaken one rune for another. Her panic made Cassy wonder if she had done the same and the two sunk into low spirits over dinner.

'One mark will not change your grades,' assured Harry as he piled treacle tart on Cassy's plate in a bid to get her to eat.

'But lots of one marks do!' protested Hermione, shrilly.

Cassy knew it did not matter, but the perfectionist in her was silently plagued by the thought she might have made such a rudimental mistake too.

Knarls amongst hedgehogs was the test for Care of Magical Creatures, with Fire Crab and unicorn care for the written field study. It proved more difficult for the boys because of their inability to get close to the Unicorns that lesson and almost half the class walked away with minor burns from the crabs. Hagrid's eyes had peered out of his little hut window anxiously for the entire exam.

No one came out of Muggle Studies pleased. It was less factual and more opinion based on Muggle morals and scenarios which had little bearing on the function of any item they had studied. Half the exam was merely asking to expand an opinion and it was only the latter half where Cassy could fully explain the production of electricity that she had any confidence in. Disheartened, she sat with Hermione who loathed her Arithmancy exam, and Harry and Neville who had come out of the worst Divination exams they could have imagined.

By Tuesday night, there were only two more exams to be done. Astronomy was at midnight and History of Magic was held the next afternoon. It was fortunate, thought Cassy, that she knew the constellation names and stars most of her life as she effortlessly wheeled through them on her chart. The only issue was locating them amongst the stars which burnt brightly in the clear night sky. The clouds had parted earlier that evening and left splatters of white in the sky, unobscured by poor weather and unlikely to receive any special consideration for poor visibility.

There was a flash of light from the grounds, but Cassy ignored it. She continued to record Orion's Belt's co-ordinates, sparing a quick glance to Harry who had turned his telescope to the source. Unbothered, she assumed it to be a few younger years trying to distract them. She had certainly heard tales of Fred and George doing it and it was quite possible it might just have been Colin and Dennis Creevy taking photographs of Harry taking an exam. Yet, Harry did not look away.

Sighing, Cassy looked away from the last page of the answer booklet and also turned her telescope to the grounds. Small, dark figures sprinted over the sloping hillside, six in total with Professor Umbridge leading, her coat bright even in the dead of night. She turned her telescope away again, perfectly certain they were heading to Hagrid's hut. She cleared her throat pointedly, but Harry did not return to his exam.

As she wrote down the next batch of co-ordinates, a roar resonated through the air.

'Concentrate,' said Professor Tofty, the examiner, when several people turned at the noise.

Cassy spared a quick glance down at the hut but continued her nearly finished chart at the final twenty-minute reminder. There was nothing to be done for Hagrid now. It was not as though they could kill him – even Professor Umbridge could not dispute that – and he had prepared to be evicted from his home. However, when another beam of light lit the darkened grounds and a yell echoed up, Cassy did turn to him once more.

'You leave my dog alone!' bellowed Hagrid. The barking had halted suddenly.

Six red lights shot at his silhouette in the doorway of his home. Hermione cried out in fright and no one paid attention to Professor Tofty's reprimand. All attention was on the hut. The stunners had no effect on Hagrid it seemed, because in the next moment a man sailed ten-feet through the air and into the pumpkin patch where Hagrid had thrown him.

'It's McGonagall!' called Pavarti.

'This is an exam!' cried Professor Tofty.

The thin, tall figure striding down the path was much more interesting than any star chart.

'Leave him alone!' she bellowed.

Instantly, four red lights darted towards her. There were multiple shouts of outrage as their Head of House crumpled to the floor, even from Professor Tofty. Another roar sounded from Hagrid, deeper and louder this time. The men nearest him collapse instantly beneath his strength. He swooped down and collected Fang, still unmoving, before he ran into the forest and out of sight. Only the sound of Professor Umbridge's screams could be heard after that.

Five minutes later, everyone departed from the tower. Many of the fifth-years congregated at the bottom of the stairwell, shocked and livid.

'She probably wanted to avoid another scene like Trelawney's,' said Ernie Macmillian.

'Professor McGonagall just took four stunners to the chest,' said Cassy icily. 'It is lucky Hagrid had giant blood to repel them, but at her age…' She shook her head. Madam Pomfrey had come hurrying out immediately and Professor Flitwick aided the move of her limp figure. Her favourite teacher was knocked down for protecting her friend.

There was simply no way Umbridge would be allowed to stay. She would be driven out. She had done a lot of wrong since joining, but Cassy would no longer allow her the title of a teacher. All she taught was misery and bullying. She even attacked her own staff.

No, thought Cassy, if Umbridge was still present next year then she would be in for a shock at the hell Cassy would raise when she turned of age that year.

* * *

**Next chapter and we're off to the Ministry! Finally.**

**Thank-you for all the reviews and favourites. I really do love receiving alerts each day when someone is working their way through the series. I like to see if they make it through all five or not, haha. **

**On a note, I realised how much re-reading the sixth-book as an adult has changed my view on the characters. I used to really dislike Ron and Hermione as a pairing, but reading the books through now as I started to write this series, I realised that they **_**are**_** made for each other. It is the films that changes my opinion because Hermione is made to be this reasonable, never-wrong, above emotional nonsense person, when she is actually very petty and jealous like Ron can be and Ron actually cares a lot more than I realised as a child. Sixth-year is the year there I really got the sense that actually, she's just as bad and therefore I like their pairing a lot more than I ever have. I'm still not keen on Harry and Ginny though. I just don't feel like a saw enough of it to have any particular attachment, though I do like Ginny, though I think she needs to be a bit more flawed. I do find her character a bit flat. I would have liked to see her transition from shy and giddy to master-of-her-own-mind-and-body that she became. **

**Anyway, hopefully there will be an update next week.**

**Thanks!**


	31. The uses of a bag of meat

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXXI: The uses of a bag of meat**

Time ticked on in the History of Magic exam. People frantically tried to recall the useful information in Professor Binn's endless drivel. Cassy's eyes darted to the large clock on the wall in front as she finished the last of the short answer questions. She had seventy-minutes to go to answer the essay question at the end, ahead of schedule.

There was a sudden thud behind her. She was inclined to ignore it until a familiar, faint groan made its way to her ears. Her head whipped around. Harry was on the floor, gasping for air, his face scrunched in pain. His fingernails ripped and pulled at his scar, red streaks of agitated skin left in their wake. The chair was suddenly pushed backwards and Cassy ignored calls for her to return to her seat. She knelt beside him and pulled his hands from his face firmly as he writhed. His eyes blinked open at through the haze, he opened his mouth, mumbling incoherent words.

Professor Tofty rushed to their side. He pulled Harry up immediately and said, 'Come with me, Mr Potter! Return to your seat.' He did not spare a glance to Cassy, but Harry did. He turned frantically, his eyes communicating more than his mouth could ever in that instance. He had had a vision, one that panicked him more than she had ever seen.

While Cassy returned to her exam question, she did not fully concentrate on it. She filled all the space, but her conscious thought was elsewhere. She was not the only one, for the minute they were excused, Neville, Hermione, and Ron were by her side to push through the crowd of students in the doorway.

'You don't think it's my dad again, do you?' asked Ron frightfully.

Cassy thought it was unlikely, but she did not say anything. She was busy debating whether to try the hospital wing or the common room for Harry. Normally her second and third choice would have been the Headmaster's office or Professor McGonagall's, but their options for aid were becoming increasingly limited. In the end, she did not have to choose, for halfway up the stairs Harry rushed into view, panting.

'Come with me,' he commanded quickly. He did not wait for a response and darted back down the corridor. Everyone was ushered inside an abandoned classroom. The door was slammed shut and he rounded on them frantically and announced, 'Sirius is gone.'

Everyone stared.

'They've got him, in the Department of Mysteries. They're torturing him,' he said. There was a slight pause as he waited for someone to react. It was Hermione who gathered her wits first.

'How would he have gotten in, though? He's supposed to be at the house,' she said timidly.

'I don't know,' bristled Harry. 'All I know is that we have to go and rescue him.'

'Are you sure it was a vision?' continued Hermione. 'The Ministry is full of workers and they would have seen a giant dog pass through. Surely the Order would know he's missing too.'

'It's always empty when I've been,' said Harry hurriedly.

'Those are dreams, though,' protested Hermione.

'They're not!' he snapped.

After a second of silence, Cassy's voice broke in. It was calm and cold in a tone she had not had to use with them in a while. It shocked everyone from their defensive positions and they turned all heads towards her.

'How do you know it was real? How do you know it was not projected and is a ploy to make you go there yourself?'

Harry stared at her incredulously and she understood why. Had it been Harry's father tortured and screaming in the Ministry walls he would have been half-way to London by now, but Cassy was not Harry. She refused to act on this feeling, not when it was so undeniably possible it was not real at all.

'I want him safe just as much as you do, Harry, but if we go to London and this is a ploy, we all risk dying for nothing. We must make sure he has left first,' she said evenly. If they went and no one knew, they would all die. They had to alert someone and try all their options to ensure Sirius was truly gone.

'How?' asked Harry, slightly calmer but still on edge.

'The mirror,' she said simply. 'He's always answered straight away when we have called, so he must take it with him. If he does not answer, then we know he is gone.'

Hermione bit her lip. 'That's not a very reliable method, is it? He could be doing anything.'

Ignoring her, Harry nodded. 'We'll call the mirror and we'll go.'

'You're not listening to me!' snapped Hermione.

Cassy turned to her and said, 'I will keep trying on the way and see what we can do.'

'How're we getting there?' asked Ron, who had been very quiet through the entire argument. 'We can't walk.'

The answer was obvious. The Floo Network was the only working means of travel and the only one still functioning was the one in Umbridge's office. They needed a distraction.

'Don't worry about that,' said Harry flippantly.

'We have to think this through,' protested Hermione. 'I know you have a saving people thing but –'

'I do not,' argued Harry loudly. He looked to Cassy who looked as though she was mentally weighing up the argument and inevitably came to the conclusion that he did indeed have a hero complex with a resigned raise of her eyebrows. He frowned at her although she was unaware he had been watching.

'You think Sirius has really cracked?' asked Ron.

'The Department of Mysteries is where the weapon is held. Maybe they're trying to get him to show them how to use it,' suggested Neville fearfully.

Hermione turned to him with a piercing expression. The last thing anyone needed to do was to put more ideas into Harry's head.

Suddenly, the door opened. Everyone held their breath. The thought on everyone's mind was that Umbridge had tracked them down after hearing of Harry's collapse. She could have been outside for minutes, listening and taking in all their secret information they had spilled so carelessly in a classroom. No pink emerged as the door swung open, though. Two small shapes of black appeared, one with red and one with yellow heads of hair, both long and tied back. Bright brown eyes of Ginny Weasley stared at them all curiously. An eyebrow was raised and she peered around the room expectantly. Beside her, Luna smiled.

'Hello, everyone,' she said, dazed.

'What's this?' asked Ginny. 'We thought we could hear you.'

Harry breathed in sharply. 'Sorry, I don't have time for this. Cassy, c'mon.' He pushed past the girls and Cassy cast the pair an appraising eye before chasing him down the corridor. Only a second later their friends' voices emerged in the hall after them. Neville, hushed and quick, tried to catch Ginny and Luna up on everything that had happened as they followed all the way to the Gryffindor common room.

Harry paid them no mind. He did not stop his march even at the sound of Ginny's sharp gasp and Ron's declaration that they had to do something. He barged through the portrait hole and the others tumbled in behind them. Luna even stepped inside. Her eyes raked over the scarlet décor with interest.

'This is nice. It's homely, but Ravenclaw's is nicer,' she commented.

'Why is a Ravenclaw in here?' sounded a bemused third-year.

Cassy followed Harry up to the fifth-year dormitory. He ignored all queries of his health and dived for his trunk. The clothes were strewn all across the floor, rummaging deeper and deeper and it was not until all of his belongings were on the floor and his trunk had been thrown several feet that he remembered he had stuffed the mirror down the side of his bed. She pulled it from his grasp and twisted it several times. There was no answer.

Grimly, the pair stared at one another. A sinking sensation fell from her heart to her stomach. It rose again, forming a lump in her throat. Sirius always answered immediately. There had not been a single time they had called him that his cheerful grey eyes had not popped into focus against the dark and dingy decor of their ancestral home. She had not given him much of a chance to answer, though. The mirror was still in her hands and angled towards her face. She turned it again, stimulating the needed eye-contact to the mirror's surface to begin the connection. Still, there was no answer.

Her throat was suddenly drier than she could ever recall; breathing enticed long claws to pull at her insides, scratching and tearing the parched surface. For a second, she could not think of anything to say. Her brain restarted almost immediately. The mirror was placed inside one of the deep inner pockets of her robe. She nodded to herself and rounded on Harry, who looked ready to snap at the first sign of allowance.

'Are we going then?' she asked.

Wordlessly, the pair ran from the room. Harry bumped and knocked the static Gryffindors out of the way and Cassy hopped over their fallen bodies unremorsefully on the way to the portrait hole. There was no slowing to inform the others of the result of the call. They collected Neville, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Ron with a mere wave of a hand and no one needed to ask further.

When they burst into the main hall with the many marble staircases, their pace slowed. It was no longer a run, but a rapid, purposeful stride that had people grumbling and fleeing from their path without so much as a demand for movement.

'We need to inform the Order!' said Hermione behind them.

'We've got no time for that,' said Harry. 'We can leave Snape a note of something if anyone has some parchment on them. Give it to a passing student to take or something.'

Hermione pursed her lips, but did not protest, well aware that neither Cassy nor Harry were about to wait for her.

'How're we going to get there?' asked Ron again.

'You're not all going!' said Harry, scandalised.

'Yes, we are,' snapped Ginny.

'You're certainly not!' barked Ron.

'I've known Sirius longer than you. I care for him as much as anyone else and I'm three-years-older than Harry was when he first faced Voldemort. I will not be left behind,' snarled Ginny back defiantly.

'Well, I'm not staying behind,' stated Neville, while Hermione did not even feel the need to justify her own involvement.

'While it is wonderful that you all wish to rescue my father,' said Cassy as they drew to a halt just outside the castle, 'we still need a way to get to London and quickly. The Floo is unobtainable without being traced, or duelling with Umbridge to get to it.'

Luna hummed. 'We could fly.'

Ron rounded on her and huffed, 'I'm the only one who has a broom.'

'I have one,' interjected Ginny.

'You're not going!' insisted Ron.

'We just need some meat,' said Luna easily.

Everyone turned towards her with varying degrees of perplexity. She looked between them expectantly and smiled when Cassy's eyes widened a fraction. Luna was brilliant, she realised. She was absolutely right. All they needed was some meat.

'Fantastic idea, Luna,' said Cassy. 'We will use the Thestrals.'

They all let out a collective noise of understanding. Without further delay, they headed back inside towards the kitchens. None of the students bothered to look at their quick walk, none but Malfoy and his friends. Pansy Parkinson openly sneered, her mouth was open ready to heckle, but Malfoy pulled her back. A gentle smirk played upon his lips, one that made Cassy feel instantly wary. She watched them retreat, never looking directly at them, never allowing them the satisfaction of the attention. They must hurry, the small voice in her head told her. Malfoy would be back.

The kitchen door was thrown open and Ron rushed to the large refrigerator unit at the far end. The house-elves squealed in delight at the human company, particularly so many at once. Luna chatted idly to Dobby, who had attached himself to Harry's leg. Loud, squeaking voices echoed through the huge room. Steam billowed from the many ovens, colourful shredded vegetables laid in perfect rows across the many island tables. Preparation for dinner was clearly already underway.

Cassy fiddled with the mirror. There was no response.

'Dobby, do you have any parchment?' asked Neville.

'Not in the kitchen, Sir,' said Dobby, blinking owlishly with his over-sized eyes.

Neville looked around before grabbing a piece of kitchen roll from a nearby roll. 'Anything to write with?'

Dobby fumbled through the draws and withdrew a piece of chalk. He asked, 'Will this do?'

'Perfect,' said Neville. The piece of kitchen roll was quickly transfigured and he scrawled out a messy message on the back. 'Dobby, can you give this to my Gran? Only to her. Don't let anyone else see it, okay?'

Dobby nodded his head eagerly, his floppy ears waving madly with the rigorous motion.

'Got the meat!' called Ron. He held up a bag of bloody chunks.

No one paid any mind to the small squeak of protest of one of the elves that they had stolen the lamb for dinner as they rushed from the room and back up the narrow staircase. In front of them was a waiting figure. Bulstrode was in the Entrance Hall, not far from the Dungeon entrance. Malfoy was by the stairs. Crabbe was stooped behind the railing a floor above. With sharp eyes, Cassy watched them slither from their places. Like prowling cats, the Slytherins descended upon them. They slipped out of the massive double doors that led to the grounds without a word; they simply watched and smirked.

Cassy bit her lip. 'I think we need to stop.' They could not march to the Thestrals with so many prying eyes.

Harry turned on his heel suddenly, forcing everyone else to skid to a halt around them. He stared, his eyes wide and his brow furrowed, lips slightly parted as though fighting for words that would just not exit his mouth, or rather, he was trying to ensure did not exit to make the situation worse.

Before he could blurt out the oncoming revolt, Cassy hissed, 'They followed us from the time we first returned inside.'

He opened his mouth wider, yet he did not respond again. His eyebrows flashed upwards, his horror transforming into a different sort, but one none the less intense. She knew then that Umbridge was behind her. Slowly, she turned with resignation. Clad in pink as always and with a deliriously satisfied grin across her face, Umbridge approached down the steps of the grassy hillside, where they had only managed to descend half-way. Behind her were Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and some distance behind, Malfoy.

'In a rush, are we?' called Umbridge sweetly.

No one replied. Cassy tried to catch Malfoy's eye, to try and convey the seriousness of what he had done by fetching Umbridge. They were sure to be expelled, if not interrogated and whipped. Without even Professor McGonagall to buffer the punishments and be the voice of reason, there seemed like no hope for getting out of the situation unscathed now.

The Inquisitorial Squad had spread out, circling them.

Thinking fast, Cassy concocted a lie. Confidently, she said, 'We saw Hagrid being evicted last night. We realised the Hippogriffs need tending to or they will become violent and agitated. He loved them, so we were going to care for them until someone replaces him. They are high maintenance animals, but they trust us.'

Umbridge looked between them. 'Really? Seize them.'

Cassy did not fight. Parkinson pulled her hands behind her back and giggled, but Cassy knew better than to protest. It only brought satisfaction to them and to Umbridge. There were scuffles amongst the others until everyone was held tightly in the grip of a Slytherin.

'Draco,' purred Umbridge. 'Search their bags.'

There were only two bags to be searched. None of the fifth-years could take bags to their exams. This did not stop Malfoy emptying the entire contents of both onto the floor, including the sagging bag of meat.

'See?' snapped Hermione.

Umbridge frowned down at the meat, then back at them with narrowed eyes. She hummed, 'How do I know this isn't for some creature in the forest? That half-giant has always had something terribly wrong with him.'

Harry sneered and strained against Crabbe's superior strength.

'This is no longer about breaching school boundaries, but of safety,' said Umbridge tartly.

'We were never out of the boundaries, you – ' objected Ron hotly.

Cassy could not help but think it was fortunate that Goyle pressed his arm tighter around his throat. If Ron had been able to continue his protest then he very well might have said something he could not take back. As it was, Umbridge showed no sign of having heard him.

'Has that half-giant left you something to care for?' she questioned, smiling. 'A weapon, perhaps? If you don't wish to tell me here, I'm sure we can go back to my office and loosen your tongues the old fashioned way.'

The Inquisitorial Squad all laughed, each one loud and forced. Parkinson's fist dug into Cassy's back. She forced her a step forward and Cassy dug her heels into the ground stubbornly. Pansy would have to drag her.

'Wait!' cried Hermione suddenly. 'Just wait.'

Umbridge beamed.

'I can show you it – the weapon. Dumbledore ordered us to create it while he was gone. We don't really understand it, you see. We've just been following his plans and we have to have it done by the end of exams, but it is so complex…'

Brown-eyes darted across the ground feverishly. She looked nervous and whilst Cassy knew what part was real, it was the completely competent lying expression that Hermione wore that truly shocked her. Her nervousness was real; the stumbling unforced because of her fear of discovery, her darting eyes and the light lick of her lips as she spoke. Cassy knew her well enough to recognise they were Hermione's lying signs, but Umbridge certainly did not.

'Show me,' said Umbridge softly.

Hermione looked up, false tears in her eyes, and Cassy had to resist smirking.

'I'm not showing them!' declared Hermione forcefully.

'You will do as I say,' sneered Umbridge, but Hermione shook her head.

'I wouldn't trust this with anyone! Certainly not students. If Dumbledore wanted it made then it must be powerful. I don't know what it does yet, but I won't let them see where it's hidden,' she said.

The threat of others being able to use the machine played over in Umbridge's mind. The slow realisation that widened knowledge only meant more danger for the Ministry was evident on her face when she slowly began to nod. She pulled Hermione from the grasp of her Slytherin captor and then turned to Harry, eyeing him critically.

'Come too, Potter,' she commanded. 'As Dumbledore's favourite, I assume you have a better understanding than the friends you've roped in to help. As for the rest of you, take them to my office.'

Harry snarled, but did not argue. He and Hermione began to stumble down the sloping grounds towards the Forbidden Forest. It was impossible to know the plan Hermione had so quickly devised, though Cassy thought she had a good idea of what it might be. There were only four dangerous things that could serve as a large enough distraction to buy them the time they needed to escape the grounds: the Acromantula, the Cerberus, the Centaurs, and Grawp.

The three forms soon vanished from sight, Parkinson kicked the back of Cassy's legs, urging her to move. With her heels still stubbornly dug into the ground, Cassy pushed all of her weight backwards, swung her chin to meet her chest and then threw her head backwards suddenly and sharply. A loud crack and a sharp cry resonated behind her. She tugged her arms from Parkinson's grip and spun to thrust her knee into the other girl's stomach, sending her tumbling to the ground.

Instantly, her wand was drawn. The ruffling of clothing and the skidding of feet was behind her. She turned. Blood spurted from Ron's nose and Ginny's lip was split, but she was still smirking, having blindly scratched Bulstrode's face first in her effort to escape. Luna turned and kneed Crabbe in the crotch. Malfoy moved forward, his hand in his pocket for his wand. Cassy brought hers higher, ready to curse though she did not have the chance. Neville pivoted on the spot, his fist raised and with the propulsion of his feet powering it, he planted a hard hit to the centre of Malfoy's face. He collapsed to the floor and Ron let out a loud cackle and slapped Neville on the shoulder, grinning as though he had just won the House cup.

Swiftly, Cassy stunned the Inquisitorial Squad where they lay, all except for Malfoy. She stood above him as he squirmed on the floor.

'You were about to let me be expelled. In fact, you almost instigated it,' she stated icily. He said nothing. He did not have the chance to before his legs were locked together. Ron suddenly grabbed her arm.

'Can I try a spell?' he asked, brimming with excitement.

With a single raised eyebrow, she nodded.

'Eat slugs!' called Ron. There was no flash of light or even a real incantation, but the effect was immediate. Malfoy rolled onto his stomach like an ungraceful seal, a deep, guttural noise erupted from his throat and was accompanied by a large, slick slug.

'I've always wanted to do that spell,' admitted Ron, gleefully.

Luna stooped to pick up the meat from the ground and she and Ginny stuffed their belongings back in their bags. Cassy took the opportunity to check the mirror again, but all she saw was her own reflection. Her father was still not answering. They had wasted enough time as it was.

No one had been on the grounds to witness the scuffle between them and the Inquisitorial Squad. They strode towards the forest uninhibited though they would only have been met with cheers if anyone were to have seen it. The castle was surely settling down for dinner, although the June summer sun was high in the sky. The Thestrals were only a few feet within the boundary of the forest. The light shade of the leaves left smattered pockets of light brightening their dark skin. A handful of the little herd looked up as they approached. There were three foals that jumped and wobbled on their bandy legs, each shied from the humans.

Carefully, Cassy stepped over the deep roots of the ancient trees. Her hands moved towards the mussel of a particularly large Thestral, who huffed as she petted his leathery skin.

'So, what do we do?' asked Ron.

No one replied. There seemed to be a silent agreement amongst four of the five that they should wait for Harry and Hermione to return, but Cassy was unsure. It made more sense in her mind that she go to London by herself, or at least without Harry. It would both be quicker and it would protect him from any potential trap. Even if his vision was not forced and Sirius was really being kept in the Department of Mysteries, by going to his aid Harry was still being put at risk. Voldemort still wanted to kill him, they all knew that, so it seemed so foolish to take Harry to a place where the Dark Lord would inevitably be, whether rescue or trap. She would be better going without him.

Whatever happened, even if she lived, she expected if she did that she would find herself single at the end of it. Harry would certainly break up with her if she left him behind today no matter what he reason, but it seemed worth it to know he would be safe. Yet, Cassy did not know where in the Department of Mysteries Sirius was and she was not conceited enough to think she could handle a group of Death Eaters alone. She would have to take some of her friends with her and that still put them all in danger.

'We wait for Harry and Hermione,' she said after a moment.

'We should go and find them, hex Umbridge and go,' suggested Ginny.

'Mum's going to kill us when she finds out we've been expelled,' mumbled Ron. 'At least we can join the Order early this way, I guess.'

Cassy ignored them and continued to pet the Thestral. Beside her, Luna coaxed the other adults closer with the bloody chunks of meat. She rolled them in her hands, smiling.

'Can you help us find our friends? They went into the forest just now. We need your help to get them, so we can go to London to help my father,' whispered Cassy. She gazed into the black, lifeless eyes of the creature in front of her. Slowly, he nodded back and trudged past her back along the tree line towards Hagrid's hut.

'Where's he going?' asked Neville.

'Where's what going?' questioned Ron. He and Ginny looked around them blankly.

With a slight wave her hand for the others to follow, Cassy trailed after the Thestral. She remained some distance behind, stopping when he stopped and only moving as he did. He moved through the undergrowth and into the denser shrubbery. Wild and thick roots spread across the ground, down the sides of ditches and intertwining into a flooring so uneven it required thought and constant supervision to navigate. The ground beneath shuddered. The trees shivered as though alive, the wind murmured through the leaves lowly. There was a thud when Neville slipped. A rush of birds flurried from the treetops, squawking, their wings beating in a deafening chorus overhead.

Cassy stopped.

'Merlin, Neville, look what you did,' laughed Ron as he and Ginny hoisted him up again.

The Thestral in front had stopped too. It stared ahead blankly.

Cassy eyed the distance warily. She said, 'I do not believe what was anything to do with Neville.' Ahead of her there was only stillness. Yet, a faint rumbling rang through her ears. It was barely audible for a time before it began to grow louder. The rumbling grew into thundering, louder and louder until it was no longer a mere mass of sound, but clearly the collective clamour of beating hooves. A scream ripped through the air. Then slowly, like it had begun, the noise died away into the distance.

She had not seen the Centaurs pass. The herd must have been somewhere in the distance still, huge and angry if their footfalls were anything to go by. For a moment, no one spoke. Each one looked around carefully. Cracks and crackles of delicate sticks and leaves crumbling beneath a moving weight sounded, not nearly as powerful as that of a Centaur, but hurried none the less. They raised their wands. With words on their lips, spells ready to be fired, they watched two forms sprint into sight. With only two legs each, they were distinctly human.

'Oh, there you are,' said Luna airily. It was as though she failed to notice the blood that splattered across Harry and Hermione's faces, or the dirt that further marred their knees and hands.

Cassy lowered her wand.

'Are you all right?' demanded Neville, stumbling over the roots to get to them.

'We're fine,' said Hermione briskly. 'It's Grawp's blood, not ours. The Centaurs found us first. They tried to force us from the forest and, well, Umbridge doesn't like anything not strictly human, so you can imagine how that went. Grawp wasn't too far away, we were leading her to him as a distraction. He heard us and chased the Centaurs and they attacked. It was all a mess.'

'Are you all okay?' asked Harry. When he was satisfied they were, he began to trek back to the clearing where the herd usually resided. 'Now, I think Ginny, Ron, and Luna should head back up to the castle, if anyone wants to join you then fine. I don't mind going on my own.'

'We've been through this. We're all going,' stated Neville.

'It's too dangerous,' protested Harry.

'Oh yes, because it's so dangerous we're going to let you go on your own,' drawled Ginny sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

'The Thestrals have come,' interjected Cassy calmly. 'We need to leave.'

Several of the creatures appeared to have followed them deeper into the forest. The large male who she had asked for assistance from nudged Luna's hand where she still held the bag of shredded meat. There were only four in total, but Cassy was already busy devising the best ways to partner them up.

'Hermione, come with me. Luna, you can help Ginny. Ron ask Neville, he's short enough that your combined need for leg space will not affect the flight. Harry, you can have your own,' she reeled off whilst she stared expectantly at Hermione to come and join her. 'Any complaints and I will leave all of you here, understood?'

No one said a word.

* * *

**We are finally off to the Ministry! **

**Thank-you for the reviews on the last chapter. They keep me going more often than not because sometimes my motivation runs a little bit slowly, particularly when I have had a busy week like I did last week. **

**I hope you enjoy this one too, although it's a bit of a connection chapter.**

**Thanks!**


	32. It bears his name

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXXII: It bears his name**

The landscape beneath streaked by, indistinguishable and ever-changing with the unbelievable speed the Thestrals reached. It was liberating, mindless and easy to fly and Cassy wondered if it was akin to the feeling Harry had every time he rode a broomstick. She restrained from stretching her arms out at her sides. It was not the time for it. They had a purpose to fulfil and a battle waiting to commence when they landed. She eyed Harry warily. The wind reflective charm cast over her face allowed her to perfectly see his lowered brow and downturned corners of his lips.

I should have left him at Hogwarts, she thought. Consequences be damned, because she was certain there was more than a petty grudge that kept Voldemort returning to Harry. It made no sense he had sought out the Potters to kill him to begin with, the connection they shared made no sense either and despite what Remus would have her believe, it was no mere coincidence, she was sure of it.

Still, sense dictated she could not have just left him behind. He would have found his own way there to rescue his Godfather whether she wanted him to or not. Her thoughts drifted to her father. The Sun had begun to lower, they had wasted so much time from when he had first been seen to now. It was possible that he might be dead. He could be lying on the ground in the Department of Mysteries bleeding slowly and growing weaker with each moment they spent in the sky; it was possible he was still screaming, hoarse and exhausted. It was also very possible he was at home in Grimmauld Place, cursing his house-elf and ripping apart more precious family photos.

The temperature dropped with the descent of the Sun and the rise in their altitude. Limbs had long since gone stiff and numb when they finally began their decline. London came clearly into view and no one was concerned with being seen by the Muggles – they were sure to soon be arrested anyway.

Cassy and Harry slipped from the Thestrals the moment the hooves touched the ground. She patted hers and mumbles a grateful thank-you. Harry did the same and marched straight to the red telephone box outside of an old stone building she knew to be the Ministry. It was bathed in the departing orange light of the late sunset. Cars streaked by, unaware of the teenagers urging the docile Thestrals out of the road. They stopped and stooped to pick at the rubbish in the gutter.

There was a loud slap as Ron walked into the hindquarters of his Thestral.

Luna skipped to Cassy's side. Her large, protruding eyes regarded the surroundings with mild interest, probably never having been near the Ministry before. Hermione looked agitated, still unsure; Neville appeared oddly steeled, his wand already drawn.

The Floo network was always the travelling method of choice when Cassy had been to the Ministry. She, Draco, and Narcissa would Floo in on slow Wednesday afternoons to see Lucius as he worked, sometimes to bring him lunch or to keep him company after a long meeting. Those days were gone, but Cassy rather wished for them right then as she and six others squashed themselves into the tiny box with a great deal of effort. Harry pulled the door shut.

'Whoever can reach, dial six-two-four-four-two,' he instructed and Ron reached for the dial awkwardly.

Suddenly, a calm female voice filled the phonebox. It said, 'Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your names and purposes.'

Harry reeled off their names quickly, snapping their purpose pointedly at the pre-recorded voice. Seven badges dropped into the coin return slot. Hermione handed Cassy hers. It read: Cassy Black, Rescue Mission.

If everyone came back alive, she would quite like to keep it. It was almost laughable.

'Wands must be checked in at the security desk at the far end of the Atrium,' said the woman.

Harry grunted a rushed agreement. Neville, Hermione, and Luna each put on their badges. Cassy stuffed hers in her pocket as the ground beneath them began to shake. The box descended soundlessly for many feet. A faint gold soon filtered up from the bottom of the glass windows. It illuminated their feet, then their knees, their hips, then chests, then faces as the shimmering light of the Atrium finally slipped into sight. It was dark blue, with twisting gold runes that flickered and flowed across the ceiling. A golden fountain was in the centre of the floor with water flowing from the tips of wands, centaur arrows, goblin hats, and house-elf ears into the pool beneath.

There was no one to greet them at the desk. Cassy had already planned how she would render the security personnel unconscious anyway, so it was fortunate they were not present, it saved her a job. It was also very unfortunate at the same time. It raised the question of why and where they had gone to begin with. Suspiciously, she circled the desk. There were no signs of a struggle, no scrapes or scratches. Nothing appeared out of place. They were simply gone.

'Maybe some of you should stay here,' said Harry suddenly. 'You know, to keep watch.'

'I thought we had already had this conversation?' said Luna. She looked between everyone, as though waiting for someone to correct her.

'Can we just get on with it?' asked Ron firmly.

Harry bit his lip and Cassy felt the mirror weigh heavily in her pocket. Her wand flexed impatiently in her hand, but she steeled herself against any temptation to burst into action. They needed to think and they needed to plan.

'You are all aware,' her voice rang out, strong and calm, 'that whether this is a trap or not, Voldemort will be present down in the department?'

No one replied. Everyone but Harry and Luna paled, as though the reality of the situation had not fully been explored in their minds. They knew it, of course, there was no way it had not crossed their minds, but knowing a fact and knowing the implications of that fact were not the same.

'If that's supposed to deter us then it won't work. We're still going,' announced Neville resolutely. His shoulders were squared and in any other circumstance, Cassy would have smiled.

'C'mon,' called Harry reluctantly from beside a gold lift. He pushed the rattling doors aside and urged them all inside, pressing for floor nine impatiently. Knowingly, Cassy took a hold of a nearby railing. A quiet grumbling sounded, the lift trembled, and then, like a dog let off a lead, it shot away suddenly. Everyone jerked, barely able to remain standing. The numbers flicked by high on the wall as the lift descended, rattling and clanking as though it was about to fall apart beneath their feet. It resonated deafeningly loudly against the apprehensive silence.

The elevator halted as suddenly as it began. The gold barrier shifted away to reveal a solid black door. It bore no markings, not even from wear, and a single brass door handle protruded from the centre. It opened to a great circular room. The walls were black as the doors that lined them. A dark marble floor reflected the faint blue light from the burning candles mounted high on brackets. All wands were drawn and lit, but it did little good. The light seemed to be lost before it could be of much use.

As Neville stepped from the elevator, the door slid itself shut.

'What's it doing?' demanded Ginny.

The walls appeared to spin silently, the blue light vanishing for a second, leaving them with only the ghostly light of their wands. Huddled in the centre and ready to attack, everyone watched with mild trepidation as they halted. Cassy's first thought was that they must have set off some sort of defence mechanism. Such a department should have had rigorous tests and trials if anyone wanted to break into it, but it had been so easy to walk through the doors and straight into uncovering the Ministry's greatest secrets. Nothing else happened, though.

Ron, Neville, and Ginny began to speak in hushed voices to one another, their voices fretful and wary. Cassy frowned at the doors. The exit was gone.

'It must be to stop us finding our way around so easily. We won't be able to tell where we've been and where we haven't, let alone the exit,' muttered Hermione.

'We mark the doors then,' said Cassy.

'That's what I was thinking,' nodded Hermione. She turned to Harry. 'Any idea what we're looking for?'

He swallowed and breathed deeply. 'From this room, I always went into one that kind of glittered. I'll know it when I see it. Let's check each one out then and mark it before it has a chance to change.'

Hermione immediately burnt a large 'X' into the nearest door. Harry opened it to reveal more low ceilings and faint lanterns. The room was mostly empty, with the exception of a few desks pushed to either side. In the centre, however, was a large tank which emitted an unusual, unnerving white glow. There was something terribly ominous about the masses that swam lazily through the placid water. They were rounded at the top with long, thin chords descending, which appeared to move independently of one another. Cassy's breath caught in her throat.

They cannot possibly be what I think they are, she thought in shock. Her hands pressed against the glass of the tank.

'What are they?' whispered Ron.

'They look like some sort of jellyfish,' suggested Neville, squinting.

'Aquavirus Maggots!' chirped Luna and Cassy did not even want to know what those were supposed to be. They all needed their eyes testing, the answer was obvious.

'They're brains,' said Hermione breathlessly.

'What?' demanded Ginny.

Harry joined Cassy by the side of the tank for a moment. Like her, he watched them with a kind of morbid fascination. If they did not have something very serious to pursue, then Cassy could have easily watched them float for hours; she wanted to rummage through the draws and check the notes on what exactly they were doing, what these were for, and how they had got them.

'There are more doors here,' observed Ron.

'I came straight out of the first door and into the room. It has to be one of the ones in the hall,' Harry said confidently, although Cassy could tell he was disheartened by the size of the department. If she was honest, she had expected it to be large and to cover much ground, but she expected the pathway to be so clearly engrained in his mind after months of the visions that it would be easier than this. She had never anticipated the doors would move.

She reluctantly trailed behind her boyfriend back out the door and watched the room change for a second time.

Behind the next for was a room loftier than the last. A foot wide rim of stone formed the first line of two dozen rings that descended far into the ground. The sunken pit resembled an amphitheatre and in the centre of the flat ring on the lowest level was an archway, covered by a tattered, black cloth. Luna moved forward down the steps. She walked towards the arch, a curious expression lifting her features. While that was not unusual in itself, Cassy warily followed her because of the very reason Luna was so curious – the voices.

Cold air blew around them in a manner that was less like a breeze and more like a dozen grazing hands. It was so light and inconsistent that it made skin crawl and limbs squirm to get away. It was unlike anything Cassy had ever felt. As she got closer, she realised it was not just wandering hands but murmuring voices that set her bones on edge.

'What are those voices?' asked Luna.

Cassy walked by, closer to the archway. Her fingers gripped at the cloth tightly.

'What voices?' asked Ginny nervously.

'There aren't any voices,' said Hermione.

'I hear them,' said Harry distantly. He was only now a few feet from Cassy.

'Me too,' said Neville.

It was only Hermione, Ginny, and Ron who seemed unable to hear the indistinguishable voices that flooded the hall so loudly. With that in mind, Cassy ripped the sheet from the arch. The arch was cracked and much taller than it had appeared so far away. There was no obvious pathway for it to lead to; the space that should have been hollow was filled with a rippling, silver substance that moved and flowed like water on an autumn's day.

She breathed out. It was mesmerising. Every fibre of her body told her she should climb through it and it was obvious from the way Harry inched closer to get a better look that his body told him the same.

'Can we leave now? This isn't the right room,' pleaded Hermione. She grabbed Neville's arm to pull him away like Ron took Ginny's. They both wore expressions as serenely curious as Cassy felt. She shook herself mentally and followed from the room, offering a quick push of encouragement to Harry.

When they were all safely in the hall again and the doors had moved, Cassy suggested, 'Perhaps we should do two at a time and not enter if it's wrong. It would be quicker than this.'

They needed to find Sirius if he was even there.

Cassy and Neville opened a door that revealed only darkness. Straining to see, faint shapes and distance lights became visible. Tiny white lights like distant stars and larger, dim orbs hung high above. There looked as though there was no floor, only blackness and tiny lights. Curiously, Cassy took a step forward and Neville held the black of her cloak for security, but her foot touched solid ground.

'It looks like space,' commented Neville in awe.

The orbs that hung above rotated slowly, the star-like lights meant to be just that and the room seemed to never end. Faint shapes like doors seemed to hang high in the air. The abyss was soundless. It did not glitter like Harry had said, it twinkled and even then, the lights were so faint.

'This must be it!' cried Ron from behind them.

Cassy shut and marked the door.

'It can't be it,' said Hermione as Ron rattled the door eagerly. 'Harry's door wasn't locked.'

Harry lowered the knife in his hand that Sirius had given him. He said, 'You're right. Let's keep moving.'

The next door Cassy and Neville opened immediately released a stinging, white light into the gloomy corridor. They shielded their eyes; several hisses sounded behind them as every inch was smothered in the unyielding glow. Black spots flittered through Cassy's eyes when she removed her arm, blinking quickly.

Gleaming clocks hung from every available surface. They ticked and ticked, all out of time and echoing into a din so disorientating it was difficult to know where to look. At the far end of the room was a crystal bell jar, ornate and shining, the source of the intense light. An egg was silhouetted against the shine inside it. It sprouted feathers, then shed them, only to grow them again in what appeared to be an endless cycle.

Of all the rooms she had seen, Cassy thought this was the most intriguing. Although the arch had been mesmerising in its own way, this was Time. This was where Time Turners must have been developed. Peering around eagerly, she spotted them in a cabinet in the far corner. She still rued the fact that she had not borrowed Hermione's Time Turner while she could.

'This is it,' breathed Harry. Everyone had gathered behind them at the light and Harry had pushed his way forward. 'This is the room through that door. This is it.'

Anxiety surged through Cassy's body, but so did eagerness, dread, and impatient anticipation. It bundled inside her into a steeled emotion of readiness. They crept forward, wands drawn. The door swung open. Nothing. There was no one ready to burst into action, nor piercing screams of pain as they had all envisioned. Instead, there were merely towering shelves, lined with small, dusty glass orbs that barely reflected the dim, eerie light of the far-away lanterns. There was no warmth within the room whilst they moved between the closest aisles carefully.

'This is it,' whispered Harry certainly.

Small name tags sat beneath each orb.

'Prophesies,' breathed Cassy.

'What?' whispered Hermione, frowning.

'This is the room of prophecies. Everyone knows the Ministry has one somewhere, but I never expected it to be somewhere as obvious as London in the Department of Mysteries,' she explained quietly. 'This is where they are all recorded and stored.'

Why is this where Harry keeps having dreams of, though? She wondered. Then, she froze. Flashes of the conversation she had had with Remus danced across her mind's eye. Lily sacrifice herself for Harry, a baby who could not even talk more than a handful of words, who probably had not even had his first burst of accidental magic yet. Harry who could offer nothing in defence of the Dark Lord, unless he was prophesied to do so. Her heart sunk.

'We need to leave,' she said urgently, still hushed.

Harry ignored her and liked his lips. 'We're close.'

'Harry, this is not right. We are here because of a prophecy. We must leave now,' she demanded. It all made sense. That is why the Ministry had found people lurking outside and why Voldemort wanted Harry there. He must have wanted Harry to collect it himself, perhaps there were enchantments to prevent someone else collecting it. It could be Bode and his work accident, so mysteriously and suddenly killed in hospital.

Harry turned to her this time. He frowned and frowned deeper at her livid scowl. The panic had given way to intimidation, something easier to manage and easier to enforce into action. If Harry took another step into the room she would gladly fight tooth and nail to drag him out again.

'We have to get Sirius, we have to check,' he said, scandalised.

'Why did Voldemort attack your family that night? Why did he give your mother the option to stand aside and let you be killed alone? The Dark Lord needn't kill a baby unless that baby was prophesied to be his downfall,' she hissed.

'What?' he hissed back. 'Are you mad?'

Quite possibly, thought Cassy, but it was really not the point. They needed to leave. Everyone else was now looking anxious beside them, their wands were held tightly in their fists and their eyes were even more restless than before. Harry, however, just frowned and took a step away.

'Harry!' snapped Cassy.

'Let me check, then we'll go!'

Cassy withdrew the mirror and followed him down the next aisle. She scowled openly at the back of his head. Without warning, he stopped.

'This is it,' he said.

Cassy did not know how he could tell because every aisle looked exactly the same. It was simply rows and rows of dusty orbs and dim lights. In her irritation, she sneered and grabbed his sleeve harshly.

'We have to go now,' she said again.

Harry looked around hopelessly. 'What if they've taken him somewhere else?'

'Harry,' called Ron uneasily. 'Your name's written here.'

Everyone sucked in a sharp breath.

Harry breathed out unsteadily. The weight of the situation crashed down on each of them. It was a trap. There was no denying it. It was a trap. Harry plucked the orb from the shelf, captivated.

'Why is it so dark?'

Everyone froze. Stiffly, Cassy glanced down at the mirror she had lowered so unflatteringly. Wide and inquisitive grey eyes stared up at her. Wet hair draped around a pale face and a green towel rested on his shoulders. Sirius blinked.

Shouting sounded faintly in the background of the mirror. The voice was strong, yet female, commanding immediate attention as it shouted his name. Mrs Longbottom had received her note from Neville.

Cassy glanced up to the horrified faces of her friends. Yet, between the heads of Ginny and Neville, something silver flashed distantly.

'It's a trap!' roared Cassy. She fired a red jet of light down the aisle and suddenly colourful streams surrounded them as they rushed to huddle back to back.

Faintly, Cassy thought she might have heard a 'what?' from her father as the mirror was shattered by a passing yellow curse. The remnants hit the ground with high, echoing clinks that drew the room into silence.

They were surrounded by cloaked people in pale silver masks, faceless and unidentifiable.

Harry moved backwards and trod on Ginny's toes. His weight was centred on his back foot, noticed Cassy. They were going to run further into the room and take cover amongst the endless shelves.

One of the Death Eaters moved forward fluidly. The mask dissolved, revealing the angled face and pale hair of Lucius Malfoy. He smirked.

'Careful now. We would not want anyone hurt now, would we?' he drawled and held out his hand. 'Give the prophesy over, Potter.'

Harry did not move.

'Hand it over, Potter,' he said again, more forcefully.

When he still did not move, the tall Death Eater beside Lucius laughed, high and hollow.

'Being brave, Potter? Look what good that's already done you. You can't tell the difference between a dream and reality. You have marched your friends to death,' she said, giggling to herself.

Harry tensed.

Lucius held out his hand again.

Again, Harry did not move.

'Oh, enough of this,' said the woman. 'Accio, pro – '

She did not have the chance to finish for Harry was quicker. She was forced to abandon her spell and deflect it. Once more, she laughed.

'Potter knows how to play,' she cooed. Her hood lowered and her mask dissolved. Instantly, Cassy was struck by how much like Andromeda she appeared. Her face was more skull-like than hers, weathered from years imprisoned, but so close in resemblance that her identity was undeniable. 'We have other ways to persuade you. How about we start with one of the girlies here? Make them scream.'

Her eyes moved from Ginny to Cassy, when Lucius suddenly spoke, 'Do not raise your wand until we have the prophecy.'

Bellatrix shifted lazily on the spot and rolled her eyes. 'We cannot touch Potter, we were never told to leave anyone else alone.' Her eyes fixed again curiously on Cassy, as though trying to figure out a great puzzle.

'Touch anyone and I'll smash the prophecy,' said Harry fiercely.

Cassy could tell by the tenseness of his muscles as he leant against her that he was not as confident as he felt. Neville shook behind her and Hermione was desperately trying to calm herself with forced deep breaths. Ron's hand had gripped Ginny's arm tightly and although Luna showed no obvious signs of panic, Cassy could faintly feel her shortened breaths against her ear.

'What prophecy is this, anyway?' asked Harry quickly. He was buying them time to think.

Bellatrix sneered. 'You jest.'

Cassy looked around at the Death Eaters. There were twelve of them and seven teenagers. They were almost outweighed two-to-one, but they just needed some way to remove as many as possible in one hit.

'Dumbledore never told you the reason you have that scar was hidden within the Ministry?' sneered Lucius.

'No,' continued Harry. 'Although, I'm starting to get a pretty good idea of what it says. Is that why you're all running scared?'

Bellatrix only glanced at Harry in mild annoyance, before she returned to Cassy. She bluntly and suddenly asked, 'Who are you?'

Cassy regarded her coolly.

'That,' introduced Lucius lowly, 'is Cassiopeia Black. Sirius' daughter.'

Bellatrix emitted a short, sharp laugh whilst never opening her lips. She said, 'I thought she looked like Narcissa from a certain angle. I had forgotten that mangy Blood-Traitor cousin of mine had reproduced.'

'Smash shelves,' breathed Harry.

'Well, Narcissa and Lucius did help to raise me,' said Cassy with a cold smile to keep the attention from him a while longer.

Lucius coughed, 'A lost cause from the start, I fear.'

'When I say,' continued Harry.

'A lost cause to a family like yours is only a compliment, dear Lucius,' she announced warmly.

Bellatrix sneered and raised her wand again.

'What is this prophecy and what does it have to do with my scar?' questioned Harry loudly, appearing to dislike the attention Cassy had garnered from the Death Eaters.

Lucius turned, seemingly delighted. His voice became lighter, almost triumphant as he said, 'I cannot believe it. The Dark Lord wondered why you did not come sooner – '

'Now!'

There was a rush of air as everyone burst into life. Great crashes echoed mercilessly through the room as the shelves began to collapse in on themselves and streams of ghostly light spiralled from the smashed prophecies. Whispered lines of dozens of foretold stories rushed around them, the din masking the shouts and footsteps as everyone separated.

* * *

**They are finally at the Ministry. Yay! There have been many messages about people hoping Sirius won't die and I must say you will have to wait and see!**

**Thank-you for the lovely reviews and welcome to my new readers. It's quite a hefty series to get through, so I'm glad when I see people like it enough to get through the current 673,000 words (excluding this chapter) total. **

**I hope you like this one too. **

**Thanks!**


	33. Black blood

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXXIII: Black blood**

Cassy was alone. The white mist surrounded her thickly, whispering words formed a din in her ears, low and peculiar, the words impossible to determine any longer. The further she ran, the thinner the mist, but with only an arm's span of sight around her it offered very little comfort. Her mind was racing. She had to find Harry. Everyone else was superfluous at the moment. It sounded harsh and had anyone said it aloud to her she would have cursed them then and there, but right then it was true. They had a better chance of survival than Harry purely because they were not the targets. Whoever had the prophecy was and that person was most certainly Harry. She would help round up the rest afterwards.

A hand reached out from the mist. Cassy evaded quickly, but it reached blindly for her again and it was only then that she saw the outline of a mass of curly hair.

'Hermione,' called Cassy.

'Cassy?' asked Hermione. 'Is that you?'

'Where is she?' came another voice, more dazed and distant.

'Luna?' questioned Cassy.

'It is you!' announced Luna.

Hermione stepped forward towards what must have only been Cassy's hazy outline. She grabbed her wrist, although Cassy had her wand positioned to hex her the moment there was a suggestion she was anyone other than who she was said to be. A shadow appeared behind her, slightly smaller with long, loose hair.

'We have to hurry,' urged Luna, her tone so normal it rang oddly in Cassy's mind.

The three girls ran. No one else was visible as they did so, the crashes of shelves halted and the voices faded. There was nothing but the sound of their own footsteps. The room with the bell jar was still brightly lit, too bright, disorientating even, compared the previously dull surroundings. They turned to slam the door closed, but Luna was thrown backwards by a white light. She crashed with a noisy smack on the tiled ground.

Cassy blinked urging her eyes to adjust quicker. Her wand raised readily.

The faces of the two pursuers were masked by silver. They slowed to a walk.

'Luna, are you alright?' questioned Cassy quickly without looking behind.

'I'm fine,' said Luna breathlessly as she picked herself back up from the ground and staggered to their side. She too readied her wand. She was unsteady, though, much of her weight angled forward as she struggled to breathe with the pain.

The Death Eaters laughed lowly. Both male, short for their gender, one low voice and one some octaves higher, but just as gruff. Cassy had no recollection of such voices. They were no one she had met before and had bothered to observe any oddities of to force any memory of their likely ordinary passing. She pushed that aside.

Cassy glanced at Hermione and inclined her head to the side. The other followed the gesture and nodded a fraction.

'You are not Lords, so you must be the grunts of Voldemort's forces,' Cassy teased, her voice light and a grin pulled at her pale cheeks as though she was watching the most quaint little sight.

The laughter stopped.

'How dare you speak his name!' cried one.

'You stupid bitch,' growled the other.

Hermione inched forwards.

'Who are you then?' sneered Cassy.

'We have always served the Dark Lord,' the first one spat. 'I was just not stupid enough to –'

'Get caught?' offered Cassy cheerfully. 'You will now.'

In one fluid motion, she turned and threw a binding curse in a brilliant display of light. Hermione unleashed her own attack too as the glass of the cabinet shattered. Crashes and whirls of high screams of wood and metal splintered all across the room. The two men fumbled for their wands, but in their anger they had forgotten to prepare beyond a limp grip and before they could utter more than a spell each, the two teenagers had ripped their skin and stunned them into silence.

The room was plunged into near darkness.

Hermione breathed a shuddering breath. She said, 'Luna, can you move okay? We need to find a way out of here before more come through.'

Luna nodded shakily. The noise was sure to have attracted unwanted attention, but Cassy had not thought of another plan on the spot to buy then some time to allow Luna to recover her senses. If they had attacked, the men would have fired back and she was too unstable to protect herself. Cassy and Hermione took an arm of Luna's each and hoisted off the ground as best they could to relieve some of her strain. Hermione kicked the door shut and the room span. Immediately, she grabbed at the next door, one marked with a burnt 'X' for at least it would be familiar.

It was the worst door. Even the endless darkness of the Astro room would have been preferable to the steep stone steps of the Atrium. Cassy pursed her lips, but when Luna coughed wetly she knew there was no time to be picky. She wrangled the door shut awkwardly with her left hand.

'Luna, let me levitate you down,' she said.

'No,' protested Luna. 'I'm fine, really.'

'Luna, really,' sighed Hermione, 'it will only take a moment. I promise it will help.'

Cassy supposed much of the blonde's determined protests were because she had never really had anyone to rely on before. Now, she was in a battle with people determined to kill them and even Hermione was offering her a hand when it was clear to both of them that Hermione and Luna would never really get along. It did not mean that either she or Hermione were about to be respectful of those protests, though. Doubt and pride were not luxuries they could afford at that moment.

'No, really,' she said.

'Luna, we don't have time for this,' snapped Hermione.

Luna was suddenly suspended in the air and was floating speedily down to the base of the atrium, spouting strangely forceful protests until Hermione set her down again. With a wave of her wand, Cassy through the sheet that had been covering the arch back over it. She hoped with it being out of sight, then the voices and the intrigue it caused would be out of mind and the pull she had felt so strongly before to climb through would lessen.

Luna was set behind the arch, just out of sight from the doorway. Hermione's hands ghosted over Luna's paling skin. Her cheeks were flushed as she took in each shuddering breath. Another wet cough seized her body.

'Luna, Luna, listen. You need to breathe as deeply as you can, okay?' mumbled Hermione.

Her own panic was obvious. A bit lip and hands that could not remain still; she was at a loss of what to do.

'I-I don't know how to check what's wrong,' she admitted meekly.

Cassy gritted her teeth. She had no experience with healing either. She said, 'We need to find Neville. He has much more knowledge on this. I can numb the pain, Luna, but I do not know how to help your breathing.'

Luna said nothing. Her eyes stared between them blankly. With the hope she had heard and she was simply saving her energy, Cassy peered around the arch and back up to the still closed door. Like a leaf on the surface of a placid pond, there were no ripples of emotion at the sight of her friends' danger. She had always known, she supposed, from the moment the spell had hit Luna's chest that something awful was sure to happen from it; she had known since Harry had announced her father's faux capture that something would more than likely go awry. Emotion had yet to burst through her chest, her mind was keeping panic at bay, a useless feeling when needing to think; panic only lead to mistakes and rushed decisions. There was a tingling in her hands and feet, a sort of intense desire to run further than she ever had before and to attack anyone who got in her way. Adrenalin coursed through her and only intensified as she stared up at the exit. They could not wait here. Luna would die.

'I will go and find Neville and the others,' she said.

'That's dangerous,' protested Hermione quickly.

'I will make a small mark on the door so I know to come back to this one,' continued Cassy calmly.

'You're not going! We'll figure this out together,' snapped Hermione.

'How, Hermione? She cannot be moved again,' said Cassy heatedly. 'The Order must know we are here. My father would know something was wrong and Mrs Longbottom would have received the message by now. All we need to do is survive for a time, but right now I am not sure she can.'

Luna turned, her eyes ablaze. Her distant stare focused quickly. 'We stay together. I'll … manage if you numb my chest. The p-pain is making it diff-ifficult to breath and without it I'll be fine. We… find the others together.'

Cassy wanted nothing more than to deny her that. However, as she numbed her friend, Luna's breathing eased substantially. The agony she must have been in had caused her to spasm and gasp before she could breathe a full breath, but without it she seemed to be managing. Still shaky and winded, she pushed herself uneasily to her feet. There was something distinctly un-Luna like in her manner as she gritted her teeth and frowned.

'You need to be – ' began Hermione fretfully.

'I am a Ravenclaw, Hermione,' said Luna sternly. 'I have mended many broken bones and bruises. I know my body well enough to know I will be fine for a while yet.'

Hermione recoiled and looked to Cassy for support, but the other remained silent. They really did need to get going and if Luna could walk then it would be even better.

'We stay together then,' agreed Cassy.

A thunderous bang echoed through the amphitheatre. The very stone beneath then seemed to shudder at the arrival. For a moment, there was nothing, no footsteps or voices. Then the worst imaginable thing happened.

'This is awfully boring,' came a dull voice.

Hermione sucked in a sharp gasp. She turned to Cassy with wide, brown eyes and mouthed: 'Bellatrix'.

Bellatrix LeStrange had found them. Of all the Death Eaters, she was rumoured to be the worst. She was Voldemort's right hand, the most trusted of his followers. She was as close to a friend as the Dark Lord was capable of having. Sirius had told her a story over the summer of her madness as they gazed upon the family tapestry. She was obsessed with him, adored him so completely that the Dark Lord was incapable of being questioned and those who did would die at Bellatrix's hand for the audacity of it. She was mad.

'It doesn't look like anyone's here,' said a male voice.

'You sound relieved, Avery,' drawled Bellatrix. There was an echoed tap, then another. She was descending the stairs. 'Afraid of a few school children, are you? Pathetic.'

'I'm not afraid and I'm not relieved either. I am impatient. I want to get this done and complete the Dark Lord's work before anyone can interfere,' he sneered.

_Tap, tap_, she continued down the steps.

'And there doesn't seem to be anyone here, so we should leave,' said another man.

Cassy wished she had her pocket mirror with her so she could see what the three were doing and if there were any more of them. Beside her, Hermione's lips were drawn tightly together and her hands gripped her wand in the same unyielding grip Cassy held hers in. Luna's already shook with exertion.

'Can you both not hear it? I did the moment I stepped in here,' said Bellatrix jovially. 'That breathing.'

Cassy stiffened. Luna covered her mouth quickly.

'You learn a lot in Azkaban, kiddies! The only objects of entertainment are those locked up with you. You learn to hear the small sounds of movement, of crying and breathing beneath the screams. Someone is panting, are you injured? Are you hurt, ickle ones?' she called loudly, laughing. The _tap tap_ of her continuing descent hit every nerve in Cassy body. The breathed in deeply and turned to Hermione, who had shifted into an open crouch ready to leap into action already.

'I will take Bellatrix if you two think you can manage the other two,' she whispered.

Hermione's head inclined just the slightest in agreement. In any other circumstances, she would have been offended that Cassy was giving her the easier task, but at that moment she was not. She was wordlessly entrusting Luna's safety to Hermione.

Cassy very much doubted they could defeat Bellatrix on their own. She knew they were both capable of extraordinary things which others were not, the Patronus Charm, for example, but she was not under the illusion she could defeat Bellatrix when Hermione and Luna were there. She could not focus on the most ruthless, deranged Death Eater and ensure the safety of her friends at the same time. Luna needed medical attention right then and there and Hermione was going to have the think of a way to find it. A plan had begun to formulate and recalculate from the moment the door had opened. She had a dozen ideas, none certain to work.

Hermione held up her left hand with three fingers up.

Cassy readied her feet.

_Two. _

If she had known she was going to be in a duel, she would have worn better shoes to run in.

_One. _

The effect was instantaneous. The moment to two dived from behind the arch, colourful spells and shouts of alarm shot through the room. Hermione managed to lock one of the men's legs together and Luna fired over her shoulder to disarm Avery. The first man was immediately back on his feet, but Cassy did not have time for that.

'_Avada Kedavra_!'

She sidestepped and the acid green spell connected with the cloth behind.

Bellatrix cackled loudly. Her wand twirled in her hand idly, as though there was no hint of a threat by those before her. Cassy ran up the steep seats closer closing the gap between them to a mere twenty-feet as she stood some rows above now and off to the side purposefully. It made Bellatrix halt her descent. She turned to her, still grinning. Slowly, she began to move closer. Cassy kept her eyes trained on her, but her ears focused on Hermione and Luna's duel. She moved another step up.

'I thought for a moment I had drawn the short straw, but even if I can't teach Potter a lesson in respect, I can certainly at least wipe you from the family tree,' jeered Bellatrix.

'That's funny! I was just thinking that perhaps I won't have the chance to maim Voldemort, but I can at least see you return to Azkaban,' laughed Cassy. She spoke quickly for Bellatrix's face twisted furiously immediately, but it did not deter Cassy's taunts. 'Although, it has clearly been most unkind to you or have you always looked like that? It would explain why you married LeStrange…'

Bellatrix shrieked and another Avada Kedavra blasted at her. Cassy ducked.

'How dare you! You little bitch, how dare you speak the Dark Lord's name? I'll have you for that!' she screamed.

The plan was working. Bellatrix's attention had to remain on her. Faint flashes of light illuminated the dull stone behind them as Hermione and Luna battled on.

Jumping out of the way on an incoming spell, Cassy shot one of her own. It was deflected easily, another meeting her second midway and the two crackled with a powerful flare before diminishing into nothing. Bellatrix climbed the stairs after her. Cassy kept moving; she refused to remain on the same level for more than a minute and each step was punctuated with a shield or a counter-spell. As they ascended, her choices became more varied, seemingly more erratic even, as she moved onto bolder, more dangerous spells. They were the ones she had read about; the ones she had never practised; the ones that had almost killed Shandy months prior; they were her most powerful spells and the only ones Bellatrix seemed to have issue blocking. In turn, she spat back silent spells that Cassy rapidly tried to identify – a liquidation spell to destroy organs; the Transmogrify curse to bend her body until she died of pain or impossible physical contortion; a disintegration curse to turn her to ash in an instant. It was not enough. There was so much more she did not know in Bellatrix's arsenal.

Bellatrix whistled, moving her long, dark hair from her equally dark eyes. 'What was that!'

Cassy fired another beam of orange. The stone around them blackened and portions began to glow red while tendrils of delicate smoke emerged. Bellatrix quickly threw down the arm she had shielded her face with. The hem of her dress was on fire, but she did not even seem to notice.

Wordlessly, she flicked her wand. No light or sound was emitted. It was a second later that Cassy realised she should move. However, the thought was a second too late, for the ground beneath her crumbled and the auditorium steps gave way. Pain coursed through her left wrist when it failed to grip the secure rock, slicing her palm of the jagged stone. A shield was flung around her. It softened the blow of her fall, but more than that it deflected the oncoming chunks of the stand that continued to reign down on her. Suddenly, she was sliding down the steps in a river of severed stone.

'_Crucio_!' snickered Bellatrix.

She felt nothing. A scream rang sharply.

'Luna!' cried Cassy.

'_Expelliarmus_,' called Hermione.

'Oh, Expelliamus yourself,' drawled Bellatrix.

'_Exumai_!' The rocks were blasted from behind her, halting her descent. She did not care where they fell as she scrambled out of the pit. Her tights were torn and her knees bloodied, but all she heard was Bellatrix's unyielding laughter.

Bellatrix turned, grinning. She was never serious in her attacks. She was toying with them.

'_Duro_,' said Cassy.

Bellatrix moved to the side, then again and again, rolling from the step and Cassy relentlessly sent curse after curse.

Back in the centre of the auditorium, Hermione scrambled for her wand. One hand was on Luna's prone form. The two male Death Eaters were sprawled on the ground, silent and unmoving. Cassy and Bellatrix duelled in the stands high above. Panic had coursed through her earlier when she had heard Cassy taunting the other. She may have successfully derailed Bellatrix's attention, the danger of which evident by the twitching, unconscious blonde, but Hermione hated it. The men were not as easy to knock out as she had first hoped. Her sharp eyes flicked to their hands. Quickly, although unwillingly, she left Luna and dived for the wand held in the fallen man's limp hand.

She turned, wand raised and ready to help, only to see the fleeing hem of Bellatrix's dress leave the door. There was no sign of Cassy either.

Cassy had once again climbed higher than Bellatrix and only had three options to consider with the vicious onslaught of spells. She could not stay as she was or she would surely eventually tire, so her options were to continue upwards and block herself in against the wall, dart past and lead her back down and closer to Hermione and Luna who were unarmed, or to run straight to the door and hope Bellatrix followed.

'Funny is it not that the one you revere so highly has the same blood as me,' she jeered, ensuring a wide grin lit her face. 'We are both Half-Bloods, the Dark Lord and I, both with a wizarding parent and a Muggle one. You call me filth, but in doing so you do the same to him.'

'Shut up,' growled Bellatrix.

Cassy allowed herself to be pushed back by the incoming spells. They were fiercer than before, battering the shield mercilessly.

'In the end, it is I who is more worthy of the Dark Lord's grace. We are, after all, more equal than you,' she announced smugly.

Bellatrix roared and the shield broke. Cassy fled. She hurtled from the room with Bellatrix at her heels. Her mind thanked Merlin again and again that it had worked. She waved the door shut silently and the room span. She skidded, flung open the door in front without stopping and shielded her face as it was blasted to bits inches from her. Bellatrix was still screaming and Cassy had no chance to evade her now that the door had been destroyed. She ran into the darkness, recognising the distant lights and large, revolving orbs as the space room they had opened before.

The only genuine light seemed to emanate from the hazy Sun in the centre. She ran from it seeking only the darkest corner to find her advantage.

'You insolent wretch, get back here,' screeched Bellatrix. 'I'll kill you.'

'Your persuasion skills are lacking, dear cousin,' called Cassy breathlessly. She was unsure of what made her so intent to taunt the other now, but if she was going to die at her hand, which she accepted was a good possibility, she was going to make sure she was remembered.

There is no time for such thoughts, scolded Cassy mentally. She needed to formulate a plan. The darkness was all around them. The further from the Sun there were the better chance she would have of surprising Bellatrix. The only issue was getting enough distance to ensure she did not enter the shadows with her. Faint shapes were visible at the very edges of the room. Towering bookcases and narrow desks lined the walls.

A quick _Bombarda_ set a bookcase tumbling down behind her, showering books down on their heads. Bellatrix grunted and Cassy continued to run straight for the corner. More bookcases were set there, arranged like rows of a library rather than pressed against the wall. The little cluster of scripts and notes hid her from sight, parted only slightly as she tried hurriedly to locate the Death Eater once more.

Nothing. She scooted along before she crashed to the ground. Grunting, she quickly pushed herself up again, but it was not Bellatrix who had caused the fall. Her hands ran over something slick on the ground, congealed and thick like half-dried paint. They were held to her eye level. Red; they were thickly coated in blood. Someone had been here before her. The shire amount of blood that marred the glittering floor and further sullied her skirt and tights was only more visible as strips of orange pierced through the gaps of the nestled paper stacks. Like solid beams of colour, the light uncovered her hiding place.

The Sun flickered and brightened. The ground beneath it shone, illuminating the well-hidden tile joints and drowned the little stars from sight entirely. Cassy frowned. It was like watching a magnified solar flare as the surface bubbled and spat. The distant pop of the explosions was nothing compared to the deafening rush of air. The reason, Cassy comprehended in utter horror, for the strange display was right before her. From around the other side of the Sun, Bellatrix had summoned _Fiendfyre_. The intense heat pulled from the surface of the faux Sun and straight into the body of the writhing serpent that burst forth.

Bellatrix cackled as everything caught alight.

With the soles of her shoes slick with blood, Cassy fled her hideaway. The serpent descended erratically across every item in the room. The parchment around her was ablaze when she tore through them and out between the lower shelves.

Bellatrix span on the spot.

'If you had not been so rude, I might have let you live,' she said joyfully.

It was a lie and they both knew it.

As she ran, Cassy shot a sharp, yellow spell. Chains sprouted from the ground at Bellatrix's feet. Tiny, circular, eyeless heads sprouted from thinner chains. Their long white teeth were soon buried into the flesh of her legs and stomach. She shrieked in pain and the serpent wavered. She dropped to the floor and the _Fiendfyre_ wobbled it crashed into Pluto, destroying it without a trace as it combusted easily. The rings of Saturn caught ablaze, forming a hoop of fire high in the sky.

Bellatrix refused to release the spell. She called its name once again, demanding the serpent to empower itself once more. The flames of it grew brighter, brighter than any light Cassy had ever seen before.

Spots invaded her vision. White, black, and red, she blinked rapidly to be rid of them, but they persisted stubbornly. Blindly, she reached behind her for the wall. If she headed to her right she would find the doorway out again, she instructed herself. The only comfort was that if she could not see, it was very unlikely that Bellatrix could either. Her left hand now holding her wand whilst shielding her eyes whilst her right hand dragged across the wall. Her bruised knees collided with several desks along the way, but she continued undeterred until her hand landed on a singular, circular object protruding from the smooth surface. Patting around it, she was certain the burning metal she held was a doorknob.

A thought suddenly occurred to her; Bellatrix was not screaming.

Riskily, Cassy uncovered her eyes and turned to the sound. Still stung by the light and unfathomable heat, her eyes were barely able to take in the sight; it was no longer a mere fire. Everything around them was alight. The bookshelves all down the left-hand side and the back wall were disintegrating. Embers rained down from Saturn and the air had become so hot at thick that each breath burnt her throat.

Bellatrix was no longer beside the Sun. Her hazy figure was barely visible as it fled back to the door. She had completely bypassed Cassy. Frowning further, Cassy turned back to the centre.

The Sun the serpent coiled around was so dim in comparison, though that too had faded. The Sun was dulled to a pink, the centre blue as the light faded from it. Then, the light increased. The Sun began to glow again, livelier than ever and it looked as though it had begun to shrink in on itself.

Finally, panic surged.

Cassy pulled at the handle and ignored the flare of pain in her hand. She did not know where it might lead, yet anywhere was better than there. She wrenched it open and slammed it shut. Disappointment and anxiety gripped her stomach for a moment. An iron spiral staircase stood in front of her. The walls were lined with dim gas lamps.

She had made it to the first twist of the stairs when a piercing shriek of screaming gases filled her ears. The Sun model had given way to the extreme heat of the _Fiendfyre_. Bellatrix had conjured an ingenious plan in the midst of her plight. She would retreat to safety and there would be little Cassy could do to withstand an explosion so large. She had been blinded, unable to finish her off when she should have with chains to hold her down. Now there was no chance of that.

There was nothing left to do but to throw up the most powerful shield she had. Her arms rose to cover her head in futility as the door exploded off its hinges and shattered into a million pieces. Thunderous roars of the explosion were muffled by the charm, but it failed to keep the stairs from shuddering violently; it failed to stay standing from the shire force of the explosion and after a moment shattered too. Her feet left the ground for an instant, a heavy weight beat down on her chest, but then she had been on the corner of the stairs, only able to hurtle a few feet before she crashed against the wall. She slumped onto the iron steps, her head connected with a sickening crack as her body twisted downwards. Blood flicked up the stone walls and across the stairs and through the intricate cut-out on each step.

Rubble blocked the entrance to the room. The door had partially collapsed in on itself. It spilt into the stairwell, never quite reaching where Cassy's feet now lay. One arm was twisted beneath her, the other outstretched with her wand still between her limp, bloodied fingers where even in such an event she had refused to let go. Her clothes were ripped by the shrapnel and blood trickled from her hairline, melding the now loose black strands to her pallid skin. The explosion continued to echo up and down the staircases for a time, but Cassy did not stir. She lay unmoving, uncomprehending on the stairwell, free to let the blood slide down to the next step undisturbed.

* * *

**What do you think?**

**Action scenes are hard to write. I think I might have made Bellatrix a little overpowered, but then she is supposed to be the best Death Eater… Cassy held her own though! She, Hermione, and Luna were put in a tough situation in this chapter. In the book, they all get taken out rapidly, so I was trying to make this match in that regard to some extent. I took a lot of liberties with the space room because they don't seem to really go in to detail about it. But yes, Bellatrix blew up the Sun model on purpose. I don't imagine it would be much like a real tiny Sun exploding or **_**everyone**_** would be dead, but if anything exploded it would bloody hurt. **

**I think Cassy did pretty well, but even the most powerful and intelligent people can't avoid some surprises. Hermione's going to be furious when she next sees Cassy. Hermione doesn't stand for that nonsense. It's a shame the book never really displays Luna's fighting capabilities, because she must be serious some of the time. **

**What do you think? I hadn't realised it had been over a week since I last updated until I got a review this evening and it reminded me I had a story to update, haha. **

**Thanks!**


	34. Tears of life and death

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXXIV: Tears of life and death**

Pulsing pain resonated through her skull. It was all she could feel as Cassy woke slowly. A far off cry of distress rang through her mind, urging her to hurry up and think, to recall how it was she was in so much pain and why everything was so dark. Her thoughts seemed somewhat disturbed, wonky almost as they failed to follow through an entire sentence before they trailed off back to pain and bewilderment. Ringing hounded her ears. Her head throbbed at the incessant sound. It was as though an alarm was blaring, but why there would be one she did not know. She did not even know where she was.

Her fingers slipped on the bloodied iron steps. Stiffly, they worked into the cut-outs and she shakily began to push herself up. Her arms wavered. With a crack, she slipped a step downwards. She blinked hazily.

Of course, she thought slowly, where are my legs?

She turned slowly behind her. Her legs lay sprawled on the steps above, elevated at an awkward angle that made any attempt to move precarious at best. Grunting, she forced her legs to twist down to the same step her chest rested on before she finally pushed herself up once more into a sitting position. The stone walls and tarnished railings around her swirled. Her head span with them.

With a hand over her eyes, Cassy forced herself to think. Something slick met her fingers, but she did not bother to wonder. Stone and iron surrounded her, dull, flickering gas lamps lined the walls, an alarm sounded over all other noise; the only question that mattered was where she was. She had sat her History exam, she had been vexed by the limited scope the exam offered of the period the textbook had required. Then, Harry had collapsed. Why, though, her brain demanded, and it took a moment to remember that Harry had collapsed before in a fit.

Where was her father?

Slowly, her mind began to piece together where she was and what had happened. It was difficult through the din and the pain. The explosion had rattled her, she realised as she peered around. Everything ached, her chest and arms seared with a burning intensity that she was forced to numb them until she could think of the proper pain reduction spell she had once heard Madam Pomfrey mutter during one of Harry's many Quidditch related hospital visits. Her back stung from the blunt force of the railing, but her feet moved and she felt no tingling, so she had to assume there was no damage beyond inevitable bruising. Able to recount her childhood owls name, each of her addresses, and each and every member of the last four generations of her family, she assumed nothing was wrong with her mind either.

Breathing shakily, she considered her shield to have served her well. It may not have held, but it certainly reduced the blow. She should have been dead.

It was irrelevant now, her mind asserted, dulling the ringing that was no alarm, but, she realised, was in her ears to a distant cry. What mattered was where everyone else was. She did not know how long she had been unconscious for. No clock would aid her because it was impossible to judge how long they had fought for before that too. Anything could have happened whilst she had been laying uselessly. With that thought at the front of her mind, her unstable legs were put to work and she rose gingerly. Her right hand gripped the railing tightly, her left was wrapped protectively around her stomach, her hand unable to move. The long black and red-rimmed robe was shed, with her already unsound legs the long hem was only a hazard. A slow and continuous countdown began in her head in preparation to move. A quick glance behind her showed that the only way to go was down, but whether that led to better or worse circumstances she did not know.

One, two three, she counted each and every step. Copper ran bitterly through her mouth and throat, though all her teeth seemed to be in place. She was at least confident the cut on her scalp had stopped gushing. With each step, it became easier to move. The effect of her pain-relief spell was finally coursing through her and if the pain in her head and arm were discounted, she felt fairly well, given the circumstances.

It was forty-three steps later that she finally reached the tiled ground. In front of her was a single wooden door. The hall beyond was long and thin. Coloured doors lined the walls, eight in total. She looked between each door in irritation. She did not have time for this. She needed a way out. She needed a way to find wherever her friends where now and to see for herself that they each fared better than her. She needed to see if Voldemort had got his hands on the prophecy.

As though answering her thoughts, the blank wall at the very end of the hall shifted. Gold railings morphed from the sleek, black tiles and the space opened to form a rickety lift like she had used to find the department many hours ago. For a second, she merely stared. The Ministry was very much alive with magic, so deciding it was likely her only option, Cassy strode to the lift the best she could without staggering.

There were no buttons in the lift. The shutters closed themselves noisily and immediately began a slow ascension. Cassy eyed her surroundings apprehensively. Behind her was another closed shutter and light flickered faintly as each floor past. This elevator did not have handles to hold for when it twisted left, right, up, and down. It just churned sluggishly upwards. It drew to a shuddering stop and the shutters behind opened to reveal another dark door. The wood was thick, so even with her ear pressed against it she could hear nothing beyond it. It seemed ominous that a lift should appear to take her to safety, but then that was not what she had asked for. She had asked to find her friends more than to leave. Whatever state or position they were in, she had asked to find them.

She only opened it an inch when she heard voices so clearly and so loudly. The ringing had faded and their words were clearer than anything she had heard since opening her eyes.

'He's not lying,' came a sleek, unfamiliar voice. 'The Prophecy is gone.'

Relief filled Cassy.

An ugly, chocked sob sounded. 'I'm sorry, my Lord. I tried –'

'Bellatrix,' breathed Cassy. She had suspected it was simply another Death Eater, but then she had asked the corridor about Voldemort. Then again, she had asked about her friends, so was it possible they were in there too?

'I'm sorry, my Lord,' cried Bellatrix.

'Be quiet, Bellatrix,' hissed Voldemort. 'We have company.'

The door was flung open. Cassy stood with a hand in the air where it had been resting on the door and her eyes wide in uncontrolled surprise. The Atrium was before her. The golden fountain still bubbled placidly and the floor still shone from meticulous cleaning. There were no signs of a battle, nothing misplaced or broken.

'Cassiopeia Black, if I am not mistaken,' said Voldemort, perfectly pleasantly.

Voldemort's face was white, snake-like in his slit nostrils and his eyes a distracting crimson. He smiled slightly as though amused with her, his wand twirled idly in his hands in a manner she had seen shortly ago from Bellatrix.

'Cassy.'

Cassy's head jerked away. Behind Voldemort, standing and panting was Harry. Blood was smeared across his cheek, but so were bright lines of fresh tears. He looked devastated, broken almost.

'Harry,' she breathed.

'Impossible,' shrieked Bellatrix.

Cassy ignored her. Questions plagued her mind, demanding her mouth to ask Harry what was wrong and why he was crying. Harry never cried easily. Her heart sunk into her stomach.

What if someone's dead, she thought, what if they were too slow getting Luna help?

'You had quite a duel with Bellatrix is my understanding,' said Voldemort suddenly. Again, he seemed amused by her appearance. Blood streaked across her face and stained her white shirt. Her hair was loose, her tights ripped and a hand limp and unusable. It must have been hilarious for him to see a student so boldly bite the bait he had laid and then appear so beaten.

Cassy flicked her eyes to him. Calmly and coldly, she said, 'She is not the only one capable of Protégé Invia.'

He smirked. 'Impressive spell work for your age, but given your heritage that's hardly surprising.'

If anyone else had said those words, Cassy might have stood a little taller, but when they came from the mouth of the Dark Lord they just seemed sleazy and condescending.

'Why are you here?' he asked when it became apparent she was not going to preen from his compliment. Although Cassy did not move at all, he continued, 'I think I know why. Why is it you side yourself with Mudbloods when you could have so much more than you have now?'

He began to step towards her. Harry growled in the distance, but Bellatrix jeered and raised her wand threateningly.

'Sources have told me that you are top of your classes, capable of things your classmates could scarcely dream of,' he continued silkily.

The praise was merely irritating. He spoke too highly of her for it to be a passing comment. Voldemort wanted something. She gritted her teeth.

'Join me.'

'No.' Without missing a beat, Cassy rejected his proposal. 'I would rather die than join you.'

All that could be heard was the bubbling of the fountain. Bellatrix had stiffened visibly. Her eyes were no longer trained on Harry, but on Cassy and her wand faltered, slipping down safely towards the floor. Her mouth was agape. Curiously, Harry simply smirked. He did not seem shocked by the offer and neither was Cassy. After all, the reason she had been allowed to live in second year was because of her being a Black, a potentially useful ally in the future.

Harry had always wondered about the words young Tom Riddle had uttered that night in the Chamber of Secrets. It had enraged him then, but it now simply made him want to laugh. There was not the slightest bit of doubt in his mind that she would reject him. Cassy was intelligent, regal and noble, beautiful, graceful, devious, and powerful, everything a Slytherin could desire to be, but she was more than that. She was caring, stubborn, and loyal. When the short rebuff past her lips, he did not fill with relief. He had never doubted it.

However, from the look on Bellatrix's face, she had never anticipated such a thing was possible.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. 'I do not ask twice.'

The invitation to reconsider was there, but Cassy had no interest in that. She had said no.

'You just did,' she said evenly. Her wand flexed in her hand.

'How dare you!' bellowed Bellatrix.

Before Cassy had a chance to move an inch, she collapsed to the floor. Pain seared through her. Her injuries were agony as a new clawing sensation ripped at her very bones. She gasped, but no oxygen seemed to fill her lungs. The pain was too raw to entice a scream, too strong for anything but to lay curled on the ground.

'Stop it!' roared Harry. He turned to Bellatrix with a flash of red light flowing from his wand. The Expelliarmus was easily deflected, which was fine. It meant she had had to break the Cruciatus curse first. Another and another was fired, until eventually Bellatrix's wand clattered far behind. In his rage, he had broken her hand and in her enjoyment she had forgotten to take him seriously.

She sneered and looked to the Dark Lord. Voldemort did nothing but watch as Harry ran by to where Cassy was struggling to sit on the floor. He skidded beside her, positioning himself so he could see both Voldemort and Bellatrix.

'Are you all right?' he murmured.

She nodded. All her pain relief spells had been broken. Everything hurt.

Voldemort observed them coldly with his unfeeling, crimson eyes. Twirling his wand, he said, 'Your biggest weakness, Potter, truly is how much you care. You could have hexed Bellatrix and tried to fight me one on one, but instead you abandoned that opportunity in favour of making sure your friend was unharmed. What a pity.'

Harry raised his wand darted in front of Cassy protectively. Cassy looked around for where her wand had dropped as she collapsed. Carefully, she eyed Bellatrix's retreating form as she strode to collect her own without any regard to the conversation currently ongoing.

'Well, fortunately, I can do away with two problems today, even if the prophecy is gone. I can get rid Harry Potter,' said Voldemort gently, 'and complete Miss Black's desire to die at the same time. _Imperio_.'

With horror, Cassy looked upon her boyfriend and gripped her wand tightly. Far away, she heard Bellatrix's sharp laughter. The sound matched the uncontrolled amusement on Voldemort's face. His lipless mouth stretched into a wide smile when Harry turned to reveal milky, lifeless eyes.

'Harry,' snapped Cassy quickly. 'Harry, you can fight this. Remember last year, Harry.'

Voldemort chuckled, 'It's fitting, isn't it? That the one who led you here so blindly to your death should be the one to kill you so blindly too.'

'Harry,' tried Cassy again.

Harry raised his wand.

Cassy grunted. Pain shot through her back and her knees protested at the movement, but, stubbornly, she began to push herself from the floor. There was no point in any numbing spells or pain relief. They would only be for an instant now. She did not wish to die, certainly not by Harry's hand. It had always been a risk. She had always known that. From the moment they discovered the Philosopher's Stone to right then, she had always known there was a chance she would die before leaving school. Nothing they had ever done was without risks. Calculated or not, there were always dangerous adventures to be had with her friends. There had always been something more lurking around each corner, yet she had always smiled through it in the end. There had always been some good in her life with them and somehow it made up for all the mistakes, the arguments, and the near-death experiences one of them would have each year.

She thought of them all. Of Neville who had come so far since the tearful boy she had accidentally befriended; Hermione who had stubbornly worked into her heart to be her closest female friend; Ginny had been so eager to know her, and Luna had just drifted into her life; Stephen and Astoria smiled at her in her memories, teasing and laughing through their issues. She thought of her father, who had tried his hardest to make her happy even when she refused to acknowledge it. Tonks had been the stable force she had needed, understanding and jovial when Cassy lashed out. Her grandparents had only just met her and had been so concerned for her that they begged her to be careful, careful of situations like the one she faced now.

Suddenly, she found she did not regret any of that. It was strange to think that in such a dire situation that the thought of them all could bring her such peace, but it did exactly that. She stood tall, her back straight and her head held high. Her eyes met Harry's.

'Well, at least you can die with pride,' acknowledged Voldemort sleekly. 'Say good-bye, Black.'

Cassy stared into Harry's shrouded green eyes. The wand pointed at her chest and his lips parted slowly. She readied herself, defiant, unwilling to allow Voldemort or Bellatrix to have the satisfaction of seeing her afraid. Everything seemed okay in that one moment, though she wished his eyes were their usual green if they were to be the last thing she ever saw.

'No one is dying tonight.'

The voice was uneven. It shook with exertion, but it was undeniably his. Harry's body turned stiffly towards Voldemort and his blank stare struggled into a deep glower.

'No one dies tonight but you, Tom,' he said, stronger this time. '_Expelliarmus_!'

The red light shot at Voldemort and Cassy span to face Bellatrix. Her own _Reducto_ blasted the wood beneath her and send her staggering backwards. Harry gripped her hand blindly and without a word, Cassy waved her wand high above her head. Clouds gathered around them in a thick, grey fog. Lightning burst in pockets of the hall and thunder rang, covering their footsteps as the pair ran for cover.

Harry pulled her behind a giant row stone statues that lined the Atrium. The centaur in front was rearing, its legs just far enough apart that the two had a decent view of the centre of the hall and with the various other cut outs amongst the other statues, they were confident they would be able to find a point they could both see the entire hall when their vision was added together. Harry, however, refused to let go of her hand.

'I can still fight,' said Cassy indignantly.

He bit his lip and shook his head firmly.

'I cannot just stay here!' she snapped.

'Look at you,' he demanded.

A purple curse flew through the centre of the Centaur, sending chunks of stone and dust raining down on them.

'It looks worse than it is,' she insisted quickly. 'I am fighting and that is that, now unhand me!'

She shrugged herself free.

'Sorry, but I've only just got you back, I can't … I just can't…' he mumbled weakly.

She turned and frowned, but crawled further down the stone row none the less. She had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but she did not dwell on it as she shot at Voldemort through between two trunks of carved trees. He deflected it easily enough and Cassy began to look elsewhere for inspiration. She eyed the ceiling and the floor before her keen eyes settled on the fountain that still bubbled peacefully. Concentrating, she flicked her wand sharply and the liquid surged into the air, it rose above Voldemort and Bellatrix, the latter of whom was still preoccupied with Harry's curse, before the golden water elongated to form long spikes, solid daggers that she then released down like rain.

While they both raised their shields, Harry opened fire. He hit Bellatrix in the centre of the chest and sent her tumbling ten feet backwards across the wooden floor. Several daggers licked at her skin as they fell, slicing her exposed legs and her arms she had raised to protect her face. As soon as the daggers hit the ground, they returned to water, pooling and flooding the Atrium to create a precarious duelling ground, but a look between Cassy and Harry assured them they could each work with that.

'You should have joined me when you had the chance,' roared Voldemort, 'because you both shall die here and now.'

'I should think not,' came a low, grave voice.

Cassy and Harry's heads whipped to the golden gates at the far end of the hall. It was not the door they had entered from initially, nor the one Cassy had used to get back, but larger gates which obstructed an equally large door. In the centre was Albus Dumbledore. He did not wear brightly patterned robes, nor did his eyes twinkle. He stood with his wand drawn at his side, looking more severe than anyone could ever recall.

'Dumbledore,' breathed Harry and Cassy quickly crawled back to his side to find a better view.

'It was a foolish of you to come here tonight, Tom. The Aurors are on their way,' he said calmly.

Voldemort tilted his head and said, 'I'll be gone before they get here. Avada Kedavra!'

The curse missed as Dumbledore sidestepped swiftly, as though he had done the same thing a hundred times before with Voldemort. He did not respond and instead turned to look beside him at someone Cassy could not quite see through the gap.

'Who is that?' hissed Harry.

'Attend to Harry and Cassy, if you will,' instructed Dumbledore with a nod in their direction.

There was a sharp, audible gasp. The man burst into sight and Cassy silently elated at the panicked face of her father. He easily deflected a curse Bellatrix sent and continued to run with impressive speed, even for a man who had not been house-bound all year. He skidded around the statue, flicking up streams of golden liquid as he did, while Dumbledore and Voldemort began to talk. Cassy did not have time to listen, however. Her ears were blocked by the shire relief that flooded through her. She could not help but smile as Sirius sunk to his knees, although his own smile faded immediately as he gripped her face in both hands.

'Unhand me,' demanded Cassy.

He emitted a short, breathless laugh and it was only then that she noticed the light lines of tears that streaked down his cheeks just as they had Harry's.

'It is you,' he laughed, chokingly. 'You are alive. How are you alive?'

Cassy stared blankly for a moment.

'Bellatrix,' began her father shakily, 'Bellatrix said… she said… but you're all right.' The grip on her face became tighter and she began to squirm. 'She said she had killed you.'

A desk exploded in the background.

'She said that she had cornered you in the Astronomy room and when the Sun exploded, well, the corridor was blocked with rubble. When we were in the hall there was no way in and we just assumed...' he explained.

Harry would not meet her eyes, but Sirius did. His own were flooded with renewed tears and she could do nothing but blink awkwardly. She hated it when people cried anywhere near her, let alone when they had hold of her face and she was the reason for their tears.

'Really, now,' she sighed and Harry huffed a laugh.

A shriek was accompanied by a thud and Cassy wrangled her head from Sirius' grasp to eye the ongoing duel. At the side, not far from where they were hidden, Bellatrix was pinned beneath a statue, her wand just out of reach. Great streams of fire clashed between Voldemort and Dumbledore.

'We would have been here sooner,' said Sirius, 'but Bellatrix blocked me out and it took a while to get through, but Dumbledore arrived just as I broke the wards. He has impeccable timing.' The last part sounded slightly resentful, but Sirius shook himself from that line of thought and eyed Cassy and Harry with unusual softness. His hand on her shoulder seemed to be shaking, but so did Harry's. Idly, she wondered if it was her who was shaking. Everywhere hurt.

Green jets of light flashed in every direction. The statues all around the room burst into life to block them each and every time. Dumbledore did not move his feet as they battled, even when Harry cried out at the sight of a green light from behind, or when Fawkes swooped down to protect their old Headmaster, crumbling into ashes on the ground the instant he was hit. He waved his arm high above his head and the golden water rose up in the thick stream like molten glass to encircle the Dark Lord and his closest Death Eater.

Bellatrix cried out, still trapped, but it seemed unusually quiet. The loud ringing thundered again in Cassy's ears. Harry dropped her hand suddenly and stood. Dimly, she heard her father's shout and she watched as he chased him back out into the open.

'Kill me,' demanded Harry loudly. 'If death is nothing, Dumbledore, then kill me now.'

Dumbledore did not reply, but it seemed as though he did not have to. The doors began to open once again and Cassy's mind was curiously blank for a moment, before it screamed at her to move. It had to be the Auror department. Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself stood in front of her father and Harry, her wand raised and ready for attack. She did not trust Fudge not to arrest Sirius on the spot, to somehow try and push the blame onto him to save face for his many blunders when the truth was standing in front of him. She would not allow him to be taken anywhere.

Harry stumbled behind her and Sirius quickly wrenched him up before he could hit the ground. A quick scan of the room informed her that Voldemort and Bellatrix had vanished.

A scarlet-robed man stuttered in the doorway. He hopped from foot to foot and pointed at an empty space, exclaiming, 'He was there, I swear it. I saw You-Know-Who!'

Cassy really wished he would not shout. It sent her head reeling.

'I know,' said Fudge as he pushed forward, also only in his pyjamas. 'I saw him too… how is this possible? Dumbledore, how is this possible?'

'There are more down in the Department of Mysteries,' added Dumbledore calmly.

'You're here with… Sirius Black!' he exclaimed. 'Seize them both! Get them now!'

No one moved. They shuffled in the doorway and peered between one another in what appeared to be a silent dare for the other to act first.

Dumbledore folded his hands in front of his lap. With his head inclined so he could peer pointedly over his half-moon spectacles, he said, 'I will fight and win again if you insist of having me detained, Cornelius. However, I think given what you have seen here tonight you have ample proof that Voldemort has indeed returned.' The men flinched. 'I have proof now that you have been chasing the wrong people for months now and that includes Sirius here. It is my understanding that you knew he was innocent and have done for some time, but due to your ineptitude have failed to act upon that. Well, consider this a pass to a full reprieve, because he helped ward away Voldemort tonight and the country owes him a fair, clean trial that I will see to it he gets.

'Now, I recommend you remove Delores Umbridge from Hogwarts and I will return to my post as Headmaster, where I shall reinstate Hagrid and your men will leave him in peace. I will run the school as I wish and it will, for the foreseeable future, be once again free from Ministry interference.'

There was no request in his tone and his patient expression did not waver when Fudge began to splutter. Cassy watched his half-lidded eyes. The adrenalin had worn off and her head span. Her body ached as it had when she first awoke again and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open any longer. Her mind was slowing and the ringing in her ears increased exponentially.

A quill suddenly appeared under her nose.

'I think it is time you three returned to Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey should already be patching up your friends by now,' said the newly reinstated Headmaster kindly.

Cassy blinked and took a moment to realise he had created and handed them a Portkey. She really needed to sleep.

Sirius took it and nodded.

'He must stay here, surely, you cannot – ' began Fudge in protest.

'I think it is best, Minister, if Sirius is with his daughter and Godson tonight, don't you?' interrupted Professor Dumbledore.

Cassy barely remembered to put her hand on it as they suddenly were whisked out of sight. Eyes opened or closed, nothing stopped the dreadful turning in her brain or in her stomach. A hot sickness rose up into her chest. The blurry grey of the hospital wing flew into sight for a split moment, before everything turned blissfully black.

* * *

**This one is up a bit quicker than normal because I want to begin next year by the end of the month. Just one chapter to finish up the year and then we will be starting year six! It should be significantly shorter than this year has been. This is a monster of a tale to tackle. **

**Anyway, Sirius is not dead! Hurray! I debated with this for a while because I know the implications it will have on their Horcrux hunt, but I can think of ways around that, so I thought I would let them have a chance at actually being a family and having a bit of a positive light in the upcoming war. Besides, Cassy dealt with death for the first half of this story, we don't need to go through that again. **

**Did I lead anyone on thinking he was dead at the start? I hope I did, haha. Cassy was being a bit slow realising she was the one that they believed to be dead because she has a head injury and quite severe other wounds. I'm not sure how long she was unconscious for, because they needed to have the big battle, destroy the prophecy, have the Order arrive, then run off, then have Voldemort arrive… so she was probably out for a good while anyway. **

**As always, thank-you for the reviews. They cheer me up when I'm stressed (and I had been very upset and stressed for the last week, but that's sorted now!) so let me know what you think, as always.**

**Thanks!**


	35. It all goes public

C. M. Black: Eyes of an Owl

**Chapter XXXV: It all goes public**

Harry stood beside Cassy's hospital bed as Madam Pomfrey frantically examined her. The others were there too, whole and safe. They had been taken back by members of the Order as the last of the Death Eaters had been rounded up and long before the Ministry had arrived. Absently, he stepped back to allow the matron the room to attend to Cassy. He said nothing as Hermione let out a relieved wail and Luna struggled to sit in the bed next to hers.

Sirius stood firmly at the end of the bed. Madam Pomfrey had emitted a slight gasp at the sight of him, but he did not transform or shy away from her to hide in case anyone entered at the incoming news of the missing students' returns. While his jaw was set, he looked much calmer than Harry felt.

For a moment during the battle, when Bellatrix had thrown open the door and Hermione had breathed in so sharply, Harry thought the world had ended. She had not even been speaking to him, but laughing at Hermione, jeering that her foolish friend had got what she deserved, yet the words sent his brain screeching to a halt so suddenly it left his head aching. The words seemed incomprehensible. The sentence did not make any sense, the words could not possibly fit together because he knew, he simply knew that it was a complete impossibility that Cassy could be dead. She could not have been gone. It was simply not possible.

Neville had been the first one to gather himself. With blood pouring from his face, his words stilted by his broken nose, he fired at Bellatrix. At least, Harry assumed it was words. He had not been listening in the slightest, but upon reflection, he supposed it might have just been a screech or a shout of despair. Whatever it had been, it only made Bellatrix laugh harder.

'She's dead. Gone. She thought she was so clever and she burnt for it!' she cackled.

Hermione had fired next. She had stood in front of Ginny and Ron protectively, both were unconscious. Luna had moved to stand unsteadily but with unyielding determination.

Harry only realised it as his eyes drifted between his friends sluggishly, that they stung. Hot tears flowed down his cheeks and it took him a moment to realise exactly why that was.

'She's dead!' repeated Bellatrix. 'Does that not bother you, Potter?'

The doors burst open and the Death Eater's scattered. Still, Harry did not react.

'Harry!' yelled Sirius. 'Are you okay?'

Harry turned his red-rimmed eyes to his Godfather.

'He's not the one you should be worried about,' said Bellatrix.

Sirius grinned and turned and for a moment, Harry felt the weight lift from his chest because how could Sirius possibly smile if Cassy was dead?

'You made a big mistake, Bellatrix,' he said with a wolfish grin. Effortlessly, a duel began between the two remaining Blacks.

Remus appeared at Luna's side, but she refused to be escorted from the centre of the room. She struggled against him, her breathing ragged and no one else even seemed to hear her struggles. Not even Neville was concerned enough to assure her it was fine to leave the battle. His hand shook so violently that Harry was surprised his wand was still gripped between his fingers. He only had eyes for Bellatrix, Bellatrix who had killed Cassy. It still seemed impossible. She was merely taunting them, surely, because there was simply no way they could all be standing there and she was the one that had fallen. Bellatrix was heartless and cruel; she was merely taking advantage of Cassy's absence to lower their defences, he assured himself. That was the only plausible explanation.

'I think you will find that the only mistake was made by your daughter when she tried to save her friends. You should have seen her, Cousin, she burnt. If you find her body, I don't imagine there will be much left to mourn,' said Bellatrix softly.

'What?' said Sirius blankly.

'You heard me, she burnt. She burnt alive when she challenged me. I must say, I was very upset not to hear her screams, but the room was caving in, you see, so if you are particularly lucky then she might even have been crushed first and saved the pain!' she continued merrily.

Sirius continued to stare.

'I killed Cassiopeia Black,' she announced, singing, with a grin so wide her sunken cheeks were forced to reveal her yellowed teeth.

The lights surrounding them and the cries of battles nearby were drowned out by nothing but a dull ringing. Harry's world seemed to tilt for a moment at the sound of Sirius' roar. His movements were frantic, determined, and deadly. Each swipe of his wand produced a new spell, no movement was wasted unlike before and he no longer smiled. He danced out of the way of attacks with an ease and grace that Cassy had always had too, a family trait perhaps, he idly noted. His spells connected with Bellatrix three times, each enticing a manic laugh from his lips, daring her to say another word about his child. The hysterical tinge to his words spoke only of desperation and the much-needed assurance that her truths were lies.

'He can't have taken her like he did James and Lily. He can't have, I don't accept it!' he yelled. Yet, tears blurred his eyes just like they did everyone else's.

The ringing increased as Harry was forced to look around again at his friends. Remus pulled on his arms, urging him from the room and to safety, wherever the other's had been whisked away to, though he could still see Neville fighting against Kingsley's grasp in the distance. Remus' face was crumpled; Tonks' hair was a meek brown and her shoulders jerked unnaturally as she forced herself to breathe through the tears that streaked her face. Suddenly, the impossible was not so defined. She was really gone.

Harry did not recall what had happened after that so easily. A loud noise erupted from somewhere, possibly himself, and it echoed dangerously through the amphitheatre. He ran for her and straight past Sirius. He reached out a moment too late to catch his sleeve. She ran, grinning and he knew it was a trap, that she was enjoying his rage and his sorrow, but he did not care. His mind was no longer able to deny that Cassy might be dead. All that left was anger and Bellatrix was going to pay for what she had done.

'Harry!' shouted Sirius and Remus. His name was echoed by the other members of the Order when they realised he was heading straight for the exit, but he had not slowed down or stopped. He continued to chase her, his wand drawn and he willingly followed her until she vanished behind a door. It slammed shut, but not before flashing a glint of gold of the elevator that lead to the exit. Of all the doors, only one did not change. Rock tumbled from where the entrance had once been, blocked, just like Bellatrix had said.

He had shouted at the room and demanded an exit. As soon as the walls stopped spinning he was greeted with the golden gate and Harry boarded it just as Sirius appeared in the hall. He only spared the briefest glance at him. It was too painful to even contemplate the look on his face. His daughter was dead. She was dead, dead, dead, and it was all Harry's fault for not thinking before he acted. He had gone to the Ministry to save one Black and had incidentally killed the other.

Bellatrix had been waiting for him in the atrium. He watched with satisfaction as she crumpled to the ground and writhed with pain beneath his spell. She laughed when it ended and stood as though the torture was nothing. It meant nothing, though, her satisfied smile, for the prophecy was gone and Voldemort would surely know that. He hoped he made her suffer for it because it was nothing less than she deserved. Then, he arrived and it was only a blissful few minutes later that the door was slammed open to reveal Cassy, bloodied, but still very much alive, though somewhat aggravated.

At the memory of the events, Harry could not help but choke back a sob. He had never truly considered that she might die. It seemed impossible that she would be anything less than fine that it had taken the description of her crisped corpse and her father's roar of denial to force the message through his skull.

To his side, Sirius had still not moved. A curtain was now around the bed, but Sirius continued to stare at it blankly until Harry spoke.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered.

Sirius slowly moved his eyes to Harry. 'Don't be. I would have done the same if I thought anyone was in danger.'

'If anything had happened –'

'I would not have been your fault. You could have ordered her to stay behind and she would have punched you and gone by herself,' he snorted. A slight smile tugged at his lips and Harry felt mildly relieved at the sight of the small expression.

'Is she…?' asked Neville gingerly. His round face was pink from an effort not to cry all over again. Yet, he did not hold back when Harry nodded and smiled.

'Alive? Yeah, she is,' he said.

Hermione, who had already been crying at the sight of her friend's uneven breaths before, began to openly sob.

'I'm going to kill her,' she choked out between uneven, harsh breaths. 'She's definitely dead.'

Madam Pomfrey hissed for them all to be quiet.

The bright light of the hospital wing was the first sight that greeted Cassy's blurry eyes. Her fingers itched for her wand, panic coursed through her when she could not feel it by her side, but she slumped down tiredly when she realised where she was. Sighing heavily, she pushed herself into a sitting position and ignored the ache of her left hand that no longer seemed to be broken. The cool air tingled the exposed skin on her arm and she peered down disdainfully at the white hospital gown someone had taken the liberty of changing her into sometime while she was unconscious.

Her eyes drifted to the beds surrounding her. The bed to her left was piled with straggly, blonde hair which poked out from beneath the thin sheets. The beds away from her were all empty and she worked her way around the room until she looked opposite. There was not a person on the bed, but there was a black mass at the end of hers that made her smile softly. Curled as small as possible, a giant dog lay at the foot of her bed. His chest puffed in and out as he lay deeply asleep.

Continuing her observations, she spotted Ron; his arms were bandaged heavily. Curiously, at the very end of the row in the bed closest to the door lay Professor Umbridge. Her eyes were open, yet she did not move or blink. She simply stared blankly up at the ceiling.

Cassy watched her curiously for some time before looking down at her own hands. The knuckles were still cut, although mostly healed, and the bruising was gone. With her unwrapped hand, she reached gingerly to feel her hairline. Fingering the edge of the bandages she found there too, she wondered what kind of injury it must have been not just to be healed in a night. She deliberated how long she had been there for. From the sleeping forms and the bright yellow light that flooded in through the arched windows, she knew it must be morning.

Her head ached slightly and her muscles were still sore, but she felt surprisingly well. A scratchy dryness had settled in her throat and she coughed, but it only made the itching worse and she smothered her mouth firmly to stop herself waking the others. At the far side, near Madam Pomfrey's office, was a water jug and with relief Cassy swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

The dog's head shot up. She paused and went to smile, but suddenly he leapt from the bed and transformed in mid-air back into a man. He landed almost silently and spun to face her. Dressed in the same blazer and shirt she had last seen him in, Sirius ran his eyes over her quickly as though checking for any signs of discomfort. He frowned.

'Are you all right?' he asked.

Cassy raised a finger to her lips and jerked her head towards Luna's sleeping form.

'Where are you going?' he whispered.

'Just to get a drink,' she croaked, fighting back the urge to cough again.

Sirius hurried to the sideboard and snatched the jug and goblet from the collection. He thrust the full goblet at her and resumed his seat at the end of her bed, watching attentively as she drank.

Awkwardly, Cassy thanked him. She wished he would stop watching her now. She was not about to die whilst in the hospital wing. They sat in silence for a time, the only sound was Ron's muffled snores. Sirius picked at lint on his black slacks idly and pulled off several strands of what looked like his own dog hair.

'You have been in and out of consciousness for the last day now. Madam Pomfrey suggested you stay in forced unconsciousness because of the extensive muscle damage she found. It's a lot harder to heal than bones. Apparently, you are very lucky to be alive, if not at least deaf from an explosion like that,' he stated.

'I know some rather powerful shield spells,' said Cassy with a small smile.

He smiled back, although it did not look particularly happy and said, 'I'm glad. I dread to think what might have happened otherwise.'

Buried or cremated, pondered Cassy inappropriately. She had never really thought about it.

'What happened in there?' Sirius suddenly asked. 'Hermione said you went to face Bellatrix alone.'

'How is everyone, actually?' questioned Cassy abruptly.

'Cassy,' said Sirius, warningly.

'How is everyone?' she repeated imploringly.

'Everyone is fine. Ron will most likely have scars on his arms for the rest of his life from the brains – ' Cassy's eyes widened in alarm, 'but his mind is fine, at least. Luna had some breathing difficulties because one of her lungs had collapsed and she had some internal bleeding. Harry is fine and so is Neville, although his nose was broken. Ginny was concussed, but she was let out yesterday. Hermione was fine beyond a snapped ankle.'

Cassy breathed out. If they had not had Dumbledore's Army then they certainly all would be dead.

'Now, tell me what happened,' said Sirius sternly.

She ran a hand through her loose hair and began her story. She went over how Luna had been hurt and how eventually both she and Hermione had been disarmed and with nothing left to do, she drew Bellatrix away from them. She explained the Fiendfyre and how she had enraged Bellatrix with her attack and how in doing so the serpent rose and grew, tightening itself around the Sun as the room burnt around them. Sirius grunted at the image she had conjured, but hissed as she described the inevitable explosion that burst the door off its hinges and sent her tumbling down the stairs with force. He watched her face closely when she began to describe her eventual escape to the Atrium.

Purposefully, she did not mention Voldemort's offer.

When she had finished speaking, Sirius nodded slowly to himself. He said, 'I really want to reprimand you, but I know I would have done the same. You and Harry were very brave, but I don't want either of you to ever risk your lives me for again.'

Cassy scowled. 'No.'

'I mean it,' he said.

'Then you cannot risk your life for us. It is either mutual or not done at all,' she snapped.

'It doesn't work like that,' he growled, but Cassy shook her head adamantly.

'It should. You cannot just expect us to do nothing if you need help. I am seventeen this year and I am joining this war and I am helping anyone I wish to, older than me or not. Have you told Harry he cannot help you? I bet he took that well,' she said forcefully.

Sirius rubbed his eyes and sighed, 'He has his mother's temper. Besides, for another year you are my responsibility and I do not want you running off to save me if I appear to be in danger, okay?'

'For another five months maximum,' said Cassy, her eyes half-lidded. 'My guardian is legally Tonks anyway.'

'Maybe for not much longer,' he said as a slow grin began to spread across his tired face. 'The Ministry has granted me a full trial, it's a formality really though. There is no way they cannot give me a full pardon. Within a month, I will be a free man.'

Cassy beamed. Her father's eyes were bright and distant with far-away thoughts.

'What do you plan to do afterwards then?' she asked.

'I don't know,' he shrugged. 'It might be nice to be able to walk down the street again. I even might ask Hagrid for my motorbike back.'

They were simple things, but things she supposed he had not been able to able to enjoy for the last fourteen years. There was nothing quite like being able to take a stroll at one's leisure, visit a restaurant, or leave to see friends without having to worry over who was there and how long you had until someone might see you. In the grand scheme of things, not much would change really. It was not as though he could stride so freely through the streets without a care, there were still Death Eaters afoot and the war was just beginning, but perhaps he would at least roam from home and with that Cassy hoped she too could find herself outside more than in last summer.

'I know about you and Harry, by the way,' he said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Cassy stiffened slightly, yet refused to allow her face to show any emotion before she knew exactly what he spoke of.

'I thought something might have been up, but I could not quite tell. Moony assured me you were just friends. Then when I was talking to Harry in the corridor yesterday after dinner, I was a dog, mind you, so he was talking to me, when Fred and George were just leaving after visiting Ron and shouted that Harry should go and visit his girlfriend in the hospital wing. When I looked round to him, he was gone. He had taken off running.'

Cassy sighed, 'They did that on purpose.'

Sirius smirked and shook his head. 'I don't mind, you know. You could have told me.'

'Would you have told your father?' she asked with narrowed eyes.

'James and I used to joke about being in-laws one day when you two were little, but that's a long way off – it better be, at least,' he said and suddenly frowned.

Cassy huffed an awkward laugh, but her smile was genuine. Sirius' hand was clasped on her shoulder and he shook it slightly with a small smile of his own. He looked her straight in the eye and said, 'I'm glad you are all right. I thought… I thought…' His grip tightened.

'It's okay,' mumbled Cassy. 'I'm sorry.'

The mere weakness in his voice was enough to make an allowance when she pulled her into a fierce hug. She did not fight it for once, but wrapped her arms around him too and ignored the cry of her strained muscles.

* * *

Cassy spent most of the morning in deep conversation with Luna and Ron. Sirius had soon departed to inform Professor Dumbledore of Cassy's missing part of the events and had not returned after breakfast. She told Luna and Ron what had happened once they had become separated and in turn they both recounted their own experiences. Ron had been with Ginny when they were chased into the space room, a severing charm hit his side through the bookcase, pooling the blood Cassy had slipped in later, and another curse had connected with his head, making him addled and delirious. He was not sure what had happened following that. Ginny had hit her head when they stumbled from the room, but he had been told they had met Harry and Neville in the corridor.

'They help us into the brain room,' he said as he picked at a chocolate frog his parents had left him. 'Neville said I was completely out of it and I thought it would be funny to summon one of the brains, mental, I know, but I did.' He then held out his arms and turned them to reveal the full extent of the lacerations the chords on the brains had left on his skin. 'After the brains started attacking us, we moved rooms and ended up in the one with the arch.'

'Which is where they found Hermione and me,' added Luna. She sat on the end of Cassy's bed, her legs swinging contentedly. 'Hermione managed to wake me up and we were about to leave to go and look for you when the door burst open. We were in there for a while before the Death Eaters found us again. We were just making a plan to find you. It seems with all of the crossings over in the corridors that we all just managed to miss each other. It couldn't have been long between Ginny and Ron leaving the space room and then them leaving the brain room. Neville and I were going to look after Ron while Ginny, Harry, and Hermione went to try and find you.'

'That's when the Death Eaters found us first,' interjected Ron quickly. His voice was spirited and alive, as though telling a grand tale of adventure to a crowd of children.

'The prophesy broke,' said Luna bluntly. 'It slipped from Neville's grip as he raced to protect me from Dolohov.'

Cassy's eyes lit up at the faint pink in Luna's cheeks and had Ron not been there she would certainly have commented, as it was, she asked, 'Then what?'

'Then Bellatrix arrived and said you were dead,' finished Luna conversationally.

'According to Ginny, the Order arrived after that, though she doesn't know too much and neither did Hermione. They were both taken away pretty quickly too. I asked Harry and Neville, but neither of them really wanted to talk about it,' said Ron with a heavy sigh.

Luna hummed. 'I think Neville was quiet more out of respect for Harry and Sirius. They were both very upset when you were brought in.'

Time passed on and although Madam Pomfrey had scolded Luna twice in ten minutes for being out of bed, the three remained in a stubborn close conversation. Their topic shifted and Ron had gone through the things his family had brought him when they had visited yesterday, which included several boxes of sweets and a homemade blanket by his mother, although he was not sure what she expected him to do with it seeing as it was June.

Luna said her father had been there to visit too and had told her all about his new theory on the Crumble-horn Snorkacks. Ron had stared at her with a sort of wary alarm before he shook his head in despair. He turned to Cassy.

'You should ask her about it. She's told me three times already. I think I'm an expert,' he said teasingly.

'I could tell by your vacant expression you listened to about forty-percent of my story,' retorted Luna, 'but that's okay. It can be difficult for some people to understand.'

Cassy had to force herself not to snort into her pumpkin juice at the horror on Ron's face.

'I could understand it if I wanted to!'

Laughing as Luna smiled kindly, if not patronisingly at him, Cassy turned to the opening door. She expected to see the tall form of her father returning, but instead she saw a shorter, blond teen shuffle through. He shut the door behind him and it was only when he turned around again that he seemed to take note of the situation before him.

'Cassy!' cried Neville. He ran towards her and skidded painfully into the metal bedstead. He winced, but quickly held out his arms for a hug before flapping momentarily and forcing them down again. 'Does it still hurt?'

'A bit,' admitted Cassy.

'On a scale of one to ten?'

'Three?' she guessed, raising an eyebrow.

'Good,' he said and before Cassy could do anything to prevent it he threw his arms around her in a firm hold. He released her just as quickly, well aware it would take only a few more moments for her to begin to squirm and complain.

She mock-glared at him, but he did not seem to notice.

'I was beside myself when Bellatrix said she had…' he admitted. His eyes began to glisten with rapidly rising tears.

Alarmed, Cassy could only think to smirk. She said, 'So people keep saying. I was not aware I was so popular.'

He rolled his eyes and wedged himself on the bed beside Luna.

'You should have seen Sirius,' he said. 'He had been treating it all like a bit of a joke at first, like the duelling was fun, but then Bellatrix said what she had done and everything changed. He just halted for a moment and his entire being just changed. It was really terrifying. I'm glad I wasn't her because that look was enough to make me shudder, let alone the kinds of spells he threw out there. He had her on the ropes until she fled.'

'She retreated?' asked Cassy, surprised.

'Yeah. I think she thought what she said would ruin his spirit, but it only made him fight harder, so it backfired a bit. Anyway, then Harry raced after her and Sirius ran after him while we all remained in the amphitheatre. Dumbledore arrived a bit later and he went after then when Remus explained,' he explained.

Cassy nodded slowly. A not-so-quiet part of her brain revelled in the fact that her father had been a match for Bellatrix, but another part of it assessed it was not only the duel that had her fleeing. She needed to get Harry alone to Voldemort and baiting him was the easiest way to do it. The Dark Lord was unlikely to burst into the hall with Professor Dumbledore on his way, he did, after all, fear him above any other.

It was not long after that that Hermione and Ginny crept into the hospital wing. Much like Neville had, Hermione raced to Cassy and encircled her in a bone-crushing hug.

'You're so stupid!' she scolded while clinging on firmly. 'Why was I cursed with a best-friend like you? You scared me half to death when you ran from the room – Cassiopeia Black, will you hug be properly for once!'

Cassy paused her patronising patting and smiled sheepishly as she humoured Hermione for a second with a hug before detaching her.

'Your life would be dull without me, though,' teased Cassy and Hermione sniffed and whipped her eyes.

'That's true, but you are stupid, though,' called a voice.

Instantly, Cassy turned and beamed at the sight of Harry approaching. His hair was as ruffled as ever, his glasses had been fixed once again, and the long, thin cut that had marred his right cheekbone had begun to heal. She hopped down from the bed. He caught her as she approached and swooped down for a long, slow kiss that had Ron groaning and Ginny retching in loud imitations of puking. Harry flipped his fingers up at them. Everyone laughed and for a moment, it was as though nothing had happened.

They spoke for hours until Madam Pomfrey evicted them close to dinner time. Luna was allowed to leave that night and Sirius returned to announce his departure from the castle. Stephen and Astoria visited the next day and nosed through the various well-wishing cards that sat on her bedside table. She saw nothing of Tonks, but soon found she had been injured in the battle and was in St. Mungo's. She was fine but had muscle damage to her left leg and had to remain stationary for the next month. Cassy had laughed loudly at the news and written her cousin a very cheeky letter that teased her thoroughly for it; Tonks would never manage it.

Cassy was discharged two days later and left Ron alone and under observation, although his parents visited every day.

The _Daily Prophet_ brought the interview Harry had given to _The Quibbler_ months ago and ran it constantly and Harry had even received a personal apology from Fudge. He had just scoffed as he told them about it, fully aware he was now back in everyone's favour as the lone voice of reason through the beginning of the war. True enough, everyone had begun to watch him closer than ever. A glimmer ran through many of their eyes as though they were each waiting for something miraculous to happen whenever Harry walked by. Hermione and Ron had taken it upon themselves as Prefects to move people along, but mealtimes were still full of gawping faces and whispered questions.

Harry did not seem to notice many of them at all. Though he smiled and joked publically more easily than he had in a long time, it was the faces he pulled in private that bothered Cassy. When the attention dwindled, his eyes would dim and he would be overcome by a horrible sadness that would last only a second, before he would re-energise once more. It was that which provoked Cassy into asking him to walk with her one sunny afternoon in late June, alone and far away from the prying eyes of the school.

The pendulum of the giant clock face swung, distorting the scatter rays of sunlight that stretched across the grey floor. It was silent in the tower for the screaming and laughing voices of the many students enjoying the good weather were too far below to penetrate the glass and stone. The hands moved slowly as the minutes past and for a while Cassy and Harry simply watched the busy people below as they sat and talked, shrieked and ran in blissful ignorance.

'When are you going to stop blaming yourself?' she asked conversationally.

Harry's shoulders slumped.

'You did not force us to accompany you, you remember. In fact, I recall on several occasions you asking us to remain back,' she continued.

'You all knew it was a bad idea though and I insisted anyway,' he muttered.

Cassy cast him a disapproving sidelong stare and said, 'And we had no proof that you were not right, so we went. Imagine how we all would have felt if your vision had been real. We knew the risks. No amount of self-blame will change what happened. Consider instead that we are all alive and there is no permanent damage done. We will be better next time.'

'There won't be a "next time",' he argued, scowling.

'There will,' said Cassy simply. She sat on the warmed stone in front of the clock and stretched her long legs out. 'We are with you now and until the end.'

Harry did not seem to particularly like the implications of that, but it pacified him enough for him to sit opposite her in the sunlight.

'I just wish I knew what the prophecy said,' she muttered.

There was no response. She slowly slid her eyes to her boyfriend and stared unblinkingly until he stopped chewing on his lip thoughtfully.

'Go on then,' she commanded.

He slowly and thoughtfully recalled:

'_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ...'_

When he finished Cassy said nothing. She replayed the information over and over in her head until she had absorbed every line.

'That's what Dumbledore told me it said. Trelawney actually made a prediction for once,' said Harry bitterly.

Cassy raised an eyebrow high onto her forehead. Trelawney was actually capable of prophesying events; the idea that Trelawney was capable of even cutting her food without firing a piece of it across the Great Hall was news, let alone being a genuine Seer.

'I know,' he lamented at her expression. 'Apparently, Voldemort was only told the beginning, so he had no way of knowing that would happen if he attacked me as a baby.'

'Has the Headmaster always known?' she asked.

Harry nodded, 'He said he thought I was too young to handle the pressure of it at first. Then when he released I was old enough, he said he cared too much about me to want to put that kind of burden on me. He said it was his greatest flaw, caring for me. I understand, but he should have said. Everything would have made so much more sense. The connection Voldemort and I share, his obsession with killing me – it all makes sense.'

Cassy flicked a Galleon between her fingers that she had fished out from the pocket of her summer dress. A child born at the end of the seventh month meant more than Harry. There were not many magical children born in Britain each year, but she knew two with birthdays a day apart at the end of the seventh month. The image conjured by Neville being marked as the one prophesied was horrifying at best. She knew he would rise to the challenge of it. The progress he had achieved so quickly following the news of Bellatrix's escape was unimaginable, so to have them murdered would only have provoked him earlier on to try harder than he believed he was capable of. She wondered if they would still be friends and if James and Lily Potter would be alive and unharmed. She might have grown up alongside Harry, but then the unfavourable idea they might have been more like siblings occurred and she pushed the entire thought train away.

'So you and you alone have the power to kill the Dark Lord,' she stated.

He nodded and she sighed.

'I assumed there was a vendetta he had against you, but I knew something was not right when he asked your mother to stand aside so he could kill you alone,' she admitted with resignation.

Harry's head jerked up. 'What do you mean?'

Cassy blinked and said, 'Do you not find it odd that he offered a Muggleborn to stand aside so he could kill a baby? Surely he would just kill her and leave you if you were anything less. Although, it still does not answer why he offered to let her live… it's been bothering me for a while now, to be honest.'

'I never thought about it,' said Harry slowly, 'but you're right. From what I know he would have just killed her.'

For several long moments, he contemplated the curious event. Cassy let him draw the same conclusions and open-ended questions she had wondered for the last six months without a word. She could see the thoughts swirling in his eyes and she turned to the window and watched in contentment as a flock of sparrows fluttered by. Eventually, she turned back to him to find him with a distant gaze as he stared out the very same window.

'We will always be by your side, you know that,' she said softly.

'You shouldn't have to be,' he returned. 'I can't expect anyone to join in this war for me and I don't want any of you hurt again.'

Cassy narrowed her eyes. 'Do not baby me, Harry. I am capable of fighting and I will do so as I wish. This war already involves my friends and family, not to mention my morals would not rest with Muggles being slaughtered. I will fight and I will probably be hurt again, but do not ever try and hold me back.'

'I wouldn't dream of it,' he protested quickly.

'Good, because if you wanted a passive girlfriend you really should have asked out Cho Chang,' she jeered, but it only made him smile.

'I know and I wouldn't expect anything less of you,' he promised. 'I just don't like the idea of anyone dying for me.'

'Oh, stop being conceited, Potter, the wars not all about you. It's not like you are the Chosen One or anything,' she teased.

Harry grunted in disgust at the title and she shuffled toward him. Their knees knocked together and she stared up at him with bright, amused eyes.

'You truly are stupid,' she muttered.

'Then we're well matched,' he countered before he leant in for a kiss. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead on hers.

'What did my father have to say about that, I wonder?' she snickered.

Harry shrugged sheepishly. 'I ran before he had a chance. The next time I saw him he just laughed at me.'

Cassy chortled.

'I really don't want to return to the Dursley's. I'm not sure I can cope,' he admitted.

Cassy hummed, 'I will work on having you out of there before your birthday, but failing that I will just get Plum to apparate you away.'

'I was watched all summer last year. What makes you think I won't be this year?'

'If you are gone you are gone. I don't care much for that and there is not much they can do about it,' she said simply and it was Harry's turn to laugh.

* * *

**I was going to wait until next week to publish this, but I've had a bit of a terrible week and it's only Wednesday, so I thought some editing might cheer me up, particularly this chapter because it means fifth year is complete!**

**Next year will be **_**C. M. Black: Tears of a Phoenix**_**. I will probably put up the first two chapters of that on Saturday.**

**I hope you enjoyed the story and I will see you for the year.**

**Thanks!**


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